Selfhood
by Roving Otter
Summary: Crona is summoned alone to the theater, where he encounters the last person he ever expected to meet.


**AN: This story is a collaboration between ZeroVX and myself. While it can be read as a standalone, it will make a lot more sense if you've read both Errors in Continuity and Breaking Point, as it takes place in the Errors in Continuity universe and involves characters from both stories.**

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><p>Even if he wasn't already a pessimist, Crona probably would've become one after his first visit to the theater. Truthfully, no one could blame him for that.<p>

After all, the theater acted as a hub for an infinite number of worlds, including his own. There was no telling what cosmic horror might eventually find its way there. And since all of the worlds were based on fictional creations, then a cosmic horror wasn't all that unlikely.

Not only that, but Crona had seen warped, distorted versions of his own world, with the people he knew and loved acting radically different from how they were supposed to. What disturbed Crona about that wasn't so much the idea that these things had happened, but that they _could_ happen.

And while he hadn't seen any genuinely horrifying versions of himself just yet, he always suspected that there was at least one out there.

Which was why being called to the theater alone made him so suspicious.

The last time he had been here alone was to talk to The Host about the issues regarding his world's canon, but back then, he had come here of his own free will. This time, The Host had summoned him. Whatever the reason, it couldn't be good. Though he was willing to consider the possibility that The Host wasn't as evil as the others suspected, Crona couldn't deny that he was willing to do some very questionable things to them.

He looked at the twin doors that led inside. He took a deep breath, then carefully pushed them open and stepped forward.

Crona paused and glanced around. Nothing about the theater was noticeably different from the countless times he'd come here before. Yet he couldn't help but think that, any second now, something was going to jump out and confirm his growing suspicions.

He crept forward and down the stairs, careful to not make too much noise. Once he got close to the bottom, he heard something that caused him to freeze in his tracks.

The slow, quiet whoosh of breathing.

He wasn't alone.

Moving even slower than before, he walked down the steps and leaned over, looking down the front row.

What he saw caused his own breath to catch in his chest.

Sitting in his own seat was the last person he'd wanted to see. A person with a figure that revealed no gender-definitive traits. Someone with a long black robe that looked suspiciously like a dress. Someone with unruly, unkempt pink hair that fell over his closed eyes.

Crona was looking at a sleeping version of himself.

Before he could stop himself, he let out a scream.

* * *

><p>Chrona woke with a start and a gasp. His head jerked up, and his eyes snapped open.<p>

For a moment he just stared straight ahead, heart racing as his mind fumbled to make sense of the situation. He'd fallen asleep in his own bed, but now he was somewhere else, a place he'd never seen before.

The room was large and dim, and there was a huge screen in front of him, currently dark. With growing confusion, he realized he was in a movie theater.

He had no memory of how he had gotten here. Fear fluttered in his chest, and his pulse spiked.

Then he looked up and met a pair of familiar eyes.

Chrona froze. He stared, his mouth open, his mind a blank.

He was looking at himself. This wasn't just someone who resembled him. This was _him. _His mirror image. And the other Chrona looked just as terrified as he did.

A tiny, choked squeak escaped his throat. His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, but no words came. He could barely breathe past the crushing pressure in his chest. His thoughts dissolved in a white haze of panic.

This couldn't be real. Could it?

He finally managed to squeeze a few words through his constricting throat: "Wh-wh-who are you?"

* * *

><p>Crona slowly backed away, eyes locked with his doppelganger's, who looked both scared and confused.<p>

Crona couldn't blame him. At least he himself had an idea of what was going on, but the other him didn't seem to have the slightest clue. What was worse, now Crona had to explain it to him.

_OK, Crona, just stay calm..._ he told himself, gulping quietly.

It had finally happened. He was now face-to-face with a version of him that was presumably from an alternate world. The Host had brought one of his many fears to life.

Naturally, questions flooded Crona's mind.

What world did this one come from? How different was it from his own? At what point in time did this Crona come from? Was he still with Medusa? Did he already meet Maka? Was he in Death City when he was brought here? Was he even a "he"?

Had Crona already encountered this version of himself somewhere before?

That last question gave him pause. It seemed like something The Host would do, bringing in a Crona from one of the stories he'd reviewed. And if that was the case, which one would he bring?

One in particular leaped to Crona's mind.

_NO_, he ordered himself. _You spent all this time getting past that. Don't think about that again.  
><em>

He stared at the other Crona, who looked as scared as ever, waiting for some sort of answer from him.

"...Crona." he responded. "I-I'm C-Crona..."

* * *

><p>Chrona's mouth had gone dry. His fingers tightened on the arm of his seat.<p>

Even the voice was the same, right down to the slight stutter.

Slowly, he stood and faced his mirror image. His heart hammered in his thin chest. "You're…me?" he whispered. He shook his head, shut his eyes, and pressed his hands against his temples. "N-no, you can't—this can't—this is crazy. This isn't happening," he said, as if saying it would change the reality in front of him.

When he opened his eyes, however, his other self was still there.

Chrona gulped, quivering. His gaze jerked away. "I don't understand," he whispered. "I was at home, and…then I woke up here, and I don't know how I got here, and…where _is _this? Why are we here? How are there _two _of us? Is this—" He stopped suddenly.

Was this even happening? Was any of this real?

He looked around at the large, dimly lit room, the walls, the screen.

"Th-this…this place…what is it?"

* * *

><p>Crona took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before letting go. It didn't do much to calm him.<p>

"O-OK...OK..." he started, holding his hands up in front of him. "I-I know th-this is a lot to take in...but I swear, everything I'm about to tell you is true."

_I can't tell him that we're fictional,_ he told himself. _That's too much._

"This place…" Crona spread his arms out to indicate the area around them. "I-It's a theater…I-I mean, you can see that already…b-but it's special. It's like…"

He paused for a second, trying to think of a proper way to explain, then pointed at the floor.

"I-It's like this place is the center of…a web. A web that stretches out…w-well, everywhere. Through all kinds of places. Different worlds. And people from those worlds…they can all come here. They can meet each other."

Crona stared at his counterpart's mystified expression, then sighed, reached up, and ran a hand through his own hair. "L-Look, I know all of this sounds crazy, but…" He pointed at himself with one hand and his doppelganger with the other. "What you need to know is…I'm you, and you're me. We're both Crona. Just…from different places."

_Not TOO different, hopefully…_ he silently added.

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><p>Chrona tried to focus on the words, tried to make sense of what was happening to him, but his mind couldn't process it. Different <em>worlds? <em>How was that possible? And if they were from entirely different worlds, how were they both Chrona?

_I'm you and you're me._

"We're…the same person?" he said in a small voice.

But if that was true, how did this other Chrona know what was going on when Chrona himself didn't? Was this some kind of trap or illusion? Someone must have _brought _him here, after all—he hadn't come here on his own.

A terrible thought occurred to him: that Medusa wasn't dead after all, that she'd come back _again, _that she was somehow making all this happen inside his mind, just as she'd once trapped him within his own worst memory, forcing him to relieve it over and over. His insides went cold.

His heart was a jackhammer trying to drill through his ribs. A deafening buzz, like some monstrous beehive, filled his ears; the sound of terror, drowning out his thoughts.

A scream welled up in his throat, but he choked it down. _Think. _Chrona clenched one fist, digging his nails into the meat of his palm until tiny twinges of pain shot through his hand. He focused on the pain. It cleared his head, just a little.

Before anything else, he had to determine if this Chrona was truly himself or if someone was trying to trick him. There was an easy way to do that. He just had to ask a question that only he himself would be able to answer.

But what? Medusa knew almost everything about him, and if she was really behind this…

There _was _something, he realized. Something that only he and Maka knew. Ragnarok too, since he was always with them, but they'd never told anyone else…and it was something Chrona could never possibly forget.

He moistened dry lips with the tip of his tongue and looked up, meeting the eyes of his other self. "If you're really me, th-then tell me…what's our word? The word that Maka and I came up with. What is it?"

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><p>Crona stared at the other him, trying to not let his confusion show.<p>

It made sense that his other self would try to test him to see if this was all true, but he didn't expect that question. Obviously, the other Crona was different from him, but not by a lot.

Clearly, he had already met Maka. But what was all this about a "word" that they came up with?

There was no way Crona could lie his way out of it. He had to tell the truth.

"...I don't understand." he replied. "I don't know what you're talking about."

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><p>The answer only deepened Chrona's confusion.<p>

If this was an imposter trying to fool him, he would have lied or made up some excuse. An imposter wouldn't admit, so simply and honestly, that he didn't know. But if this person was really himself, how could he _not _know something so important?

"Y-you know who Maka is...don't you?"

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><p>Crona had to stop himself from laughing. The question was so absurd. "O-Of course I know who Maka is," he said. "H-How could I not? ...but she never said anything about a word before. I don't know-"<p>

Crona stopped as a thought occurred to him.

_Why do they have something like that in the first place?_

Did they invent some new word that they only used? Or was it a sort of code word that had a different meaning? Either way, there was something odd about the idea, all the more so because he didn't have one with _his _Maka.

But apparently, this word was important to the other him. And the fact that he didn't know about it worried him. Why the difference? Did it mean something?

"I-I still don't understand." Crona replied. "What is this 'word'? What's it for?"

* * *

><p>Chrona froze.<p>

He'd never explained this to anyone. He'd never needed to. It was something special, something private between him and Maka. He faltered. "Ih-it's…it's just…" Chrona looked away, gripping his arm.

Even under the best of circumstances, he wasn't good with explaining things…and right now, he was too disoriented and emotionally raw to think properly. But he could feel the other Crona's gaze on him. Waiting. Expectant.

Chrona still had no idea what was going on, but by now, he was pretty sure this other Chrona wasn't trying to trick him. He seemed just as scared and confused as Chrona felt. Refusing to say anything about it would just make himself look suspicious.

"It's like…it means 'no' or 'stop.' S-sort of. W-we say it when…well, usually it's me who says it, but…wh-when something goes too far." He winced at the clumsiness of his own explanation. "B-but I don't understand…I mean, if we _are _the same person, why don't you know it?"

* * *

><p>Crona's eyes widened slowly as the explanation sunk into his brain.<p>

_But why…why would they…_

He started to back away from his other self again, his mind swimming with possible reasons, none of them remotely good. He'd said it meant "stop." Stop _what? _Why would he need to stop anything?

An image flashed through his head; Crona lying helpless on a surgical table, Maka hovering over him, scalpel in hand...

_No, no, not that one, please God, don't let it be that one, NOT THAT ONE!_

"Th-That...th-that doesn't...that doesn't make sense," he stuttered out. His arms shook as he held them up in front of himself, as if the other Crona was on the verge of attacking. "W-Why would you...why would you need something like that with _Maka_?"

* * *

><p>Chrona tensed.<p>

He'd been prepared for confusion, not for the stark dread and horror in the other Chrona's eyes. His stomach felt hollow, as if a sinking void had opened in his middle.

"Ih-it's...b-because...because we..." His voice quivered and trailed off.

He could feel the seams of his mind straining and snapping, one by one. He clutched his chest, trying to breathe through the crushing pressure. His vision had gone fuzzy. He couldn't find his voice.

But a tiny voice in his head answered anyway: _Because there's something wrong with you. Because you're weak and broken._

He drew in his breath sharply.

The word was a promise between him and Maka; an understanding that went deeper than words, a symbol of their bond with each other. It meant so much more than he could describe in his timid, stuttering little voice. At first, he'd thought he was strange for needing something like that. Maka had reassured him that she understood, that it wasn't strange, and he'd believed her. But now...

The other Chrona was still staring at him in shock and terror. He'd seen that same look on so many faces, over the years; people who were scared of his differentness, of his powers, of his very existence. He'd never expected to see that look reflected on his own face.

He bowed his head, hair hanging in his eyes like a curtain, his breathing ragged. "S-stop it. D-don't...don't look at me like that," he whispered.

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><p>Now Crona was <em>sure<em> something was wrong. His other self's reaction made that clear. He and Maka shouldn't need something like that, but this other him and his Maka did.

Which only left the question of why.

What could've happened between them? Crona hoped beyond all else that it wasn't as serious as he suspected.

He gulped slightly, trying as hard as possible to calm down. He lowered his arms to his sides, uneasy, and stared at his other self.

It was so strange to look at himself, shivering and shaking like a leaf. He'd never had the chance to actually see himself when he was scared, and now that he was, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the other him. Something about the way he seemed to shrink into himself made Crona want to stop what he was thinking and go comfort him.

Said pity quickly vanished when a new thought entered his head.

_He said that _he_ uses the word, not Maka._ He was using it to protect himself.

But an evil alternate version of Maka wouldn't agree to something like that. It had to be a normal Maka. But then, why would he need to protect himself from her in the first place? Unless...

As realization dawned, Crona's eyes narrowed and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"You don't trust her."

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><p>Chrona's breath caught, and he flinched...though more at the tone than anything. The words just confused him even more. He'd expected insults and accusations, but not that.<p>

He trusted Maka more than anyone in the world. She was the foundation of his sanity, his ideal, his everything. If they didn't trust each other, their word wouldn't even _work_. It would be pointless. Of all the things his other self might've accused him of, that seemed the most absurd; so baffling that he couldn't even wrap his head around it.

He looked up, his brows knitting together. "Wh-what do you mean? Of course I trust her. She's..." He stopped when he saw the look in the other Chrona's eyes.

He didn't just look shocked or scared anymore. He looked angry.

Chrona felt as if someone had punched him in the heart. He shrank back from the expression, and a faint whimper escaped his throat.

He should have been used to it. Should have been used to the glares, the contempt; the knowledge that if they could, most people would erase him from existence, snuff him out like a candle and believe that they'd done the world a favor.

But seeing it on his own face was somehow worse. It was a reflection of the self-hatred he still felt, the disgust at his weakness and cowardice which drove him to attack his own body, the reason he still felt a flutter of anxiety whenever he looked in the mirror and caught a glimpse of his own pleading eyes. The eyes of a murderer and a coward.

Of course, he thought. If this person truly _was _himself, it only made sense that he hated Chrona.

That angry glare burned into him. He trembled harder. He could face others' hatred and rejection; he'd come that far, but in the end, it didn't matter, because he still rejected himself. "Stop it," he whispered. Panting, he pressed his hands to his temples. "Stop it, stop it, _stop it!_"

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><p>Under any other circumstances, Crona would've stopped as soon as the first stammer had left his opposite's mouth. He knew, somewhere in his mind, that this was causing his counterpart a great deal of stress.<p>

And if there was anything that all of the Cronas had in common, at least in his mind, it was that they didn't need anymore pain and misery.

But Maka had been brought into the equation.

That changed everything.

"That is it, isn't it?" Crona shouted, pointing at his other self. "You don't trust her! You wouldn't need something like that if you did! You're not supposed to need to protect yourself from her! You're supposed to trust her more than anything! More than any_one_! More than any of the others, more than even Ragnarok!"

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><p>"I <em>do!"<em> Chrona's breaths came in sharp, panicked gulps. He clutched his head. "I...I d-don't understand why you...why this is..." A small, choked sound escaped him.

He wondered…was he trapped inside his own mind, after all? Was this some psychological torture chamber, where he'd been locked in with a manifestation of his self-hatred?

Maybe Medusa had come back, after all. Maybe this was her and she was trying to weaken him with doubt, to overpower him by chipping away at the very thing he clung to: his bond with Maka.

The fear and confusion were still there beneath the surface, but both were rapidly being eclipsed by a desperate, half-crazed fury. His brain felt hot, swollen with it, pushing against the backs of his eyes with each beat of his heart. "Shut up!" he shouted. "J-just...just shut up! Leave me alone!"

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><p>The other Crona's outburst just confirmed his growing suspicions.<p>

"Maka saved you! She risked herself for you! Over and over! You should be able to trust her with absolutely _anything_! So why do you-"

Crona stopped mid-rant, his mouth still hanging open.

Another thought had reached his mind.

Something wasn't right with the explanation that he had come up with. Something didn't fit.

"...no, no, wait a second..." he muttered.

He turned and started pacing in front of the other Crona, still muttering to himself.

"Even if we didn't...that's not something I would think of...so then she must have...but why...? She'd understand, so why would she need to...no, no, something isn't-"

Then, something clicked in Crona's mind. He had been looking at things the wrong way.

Maka had always been the one to forgive Crona. No matter what he did, no matter how horrible his crimes, she would always tell him that things would be OK. She would understand if, for some inexplicable reason, he didn't completely trust her.

But she was only human. There were only so many times she could forgive him for his actions before she eventually snapped and had enough…or before he did something so unforgivable that not even she could accept it.

That only left one explanation for this "word."

Crona stopped pacing as the reasoning became clear to him. He turned to look at the other Crona again, who was glaring daggers at him, as though he had dared to tread upon something he had no right to.

But if he looked angry, then Crona's new expression looked positively murderous.

"_What did you do_?"

* * *

><p>Chrona's jaw dropped.<p>

_What did I...do? _For a moment, he was completely flummoxed. Then, slowly, horrified realization dawned. _He thinks...that I..._

This Chrona believed that he'd..._hurt _Maka? That he would ever _think _of doing something like that? The very idea was so shocking that for a moment, he couldn't speak, couldn't even think.

He tried to remind himself that this might not even be real, that he had to keep a grip on himself. But he couldn't hold back.

"I didn't do anything!" he burst out. "What's _wrong _with you? Why would you even think something like that? I would never-" He couldn't even finish. He was too choked with rage.

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><p>Crona was far past the point of rational thought. He could feel his face getting hotter with fury as he glared at the other him.<p>

This person had done something horrible to Maka. He was sure of it. The certainty burned deep in his gut.

If Crona had his way, he wouldn't be walking away in one piece.

"You're _lying_," he hissed. His voice was filled with hatred, making him sound like another person entirely, as though his anger had manifested as a separate being and was now possessing him. "I wouldn't...I wouldn't think of something like that," he growled, advancing toward the other Crona. "Even if I didn't trust Maka...that would never occur to me. Which means that Maka came up with that. And she wouldn't think of that unless she had a reason to."

Step by step, Crona walked closer, his legs moving as though they had lead weights attached to them. "She would trust me with anything...she would be OK with me not trusting her. She wouldn't need something like that. Something must have happened to make her think that."

He was glaring right through the other Crona, now past simple rage and into an almost calm, murderous intent.

"It's not that you don't trust her...it's that _she_ doesn't trust _you_."

Without even realizing it, he was reaching up past his shoulder, waiting for Ragnarok to appear and transform.

"What did you do to her?"

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><p>Chrona went rigid. He stopped breathing. Even his heart seemed to freeze, for a brief moment. A deathly hush fell over his thoughts.<p>

Bad enough that this other Chrona would even _suggest _something like that, but for him to continue insisting that he'd _done_ something...to keep repeating those unthinkable words...

He was doing it deliberately; there was no other explanation. He was _trying _to provoke Chrona into violence by spitting on the bond that he'd built his life around.

Chrona still didn't know what this was, if it was really happening or if this was all in his head. Maybe he was supposed to get angry about this, maybe it was all part of the trap, but that no longer mattered. He just wanted his other self to shut up. To stop talking, stop spewing those ugly lies, to stop mocking and stomping all over the very thing that made his life worth living.

Chrona's hands curled into fists, nails digging into his palms almost hard enough to draw blood. He stood, trembling, as a red haze crept across his vision. Slowly, he raised his head and met Crona's gaze.

He drew in a slow, shuddering breath, glaring through the haze of anger.

Then he opened his mouth, and a scream burst from his throat, ripping through the air and vibrating in the floor beneath his feet. He drew back one fist and charged. He was going to hit him, as hard as he could. He didn't know what would happen after that.

He didn't care.

* * *

><p>Crona reeled back as his opposite's fist connected with his cheek. He staggered a few steps, his face throbbing.<p>

He placed a hand on his cheek, shock-frozen for just a second.

He looked up at the other Crona, who was shaking with rage.

The last restraint in Crona's mind disappeared, and he lunged at his counterpart, letting loose with a cry of his own, eager to just grab a hold of him and hurt him in whatever way he could.

* * *

><p>A fist connected with Chrona's nose, and his head snapped back. A dull, hot pain exploded through his head, like a flashbulb going off behind his eyes, momentarily blinding him.<p>

The pain was good; it cleared his head, centered him, blasting away the fear and bewilderment and misery. A shudder ran through him, and deep inside, a knot of tension unwound.

He knew this. The dance of fighting was deeply ingrained into his body and mind, as familiar as breathing. When he was moving, he didn't have to think, didn't have to do anything except hit and gouge and cut. He didn't want to stop, not even long enough to draw Ragnarok.

He swung again, and his fist slammed into the side of his double's head. The impact was satisfying.

He saw the other Chrona's fist drawing back, and a moment later, another blow landed on his mouth, mashing his teeth against the inside of his lips. He tasted blood, hot and sharp, and felt it running from his lower lip, down his chin.

Chrona staggered back, panting, and wiped a sleeve across his bleeding mouth. He looked at the other Chrona and wondered...was his blood black, too?

He felt his mouth stretch into a grin. His eyes twitched back and forth, and a thin, shrill giggle escaped him. Still grinning and giggling, he lunged at his double.

* * *

><p>Crona's teeth clacked together as his opponent's fist connected with his chin, sending his head back and causing him to stumble slightly. The room around him spun for a few seconds due to the impact. Before he had the chance to right himself, his doppelganger got within close range and swung again, another fist smashing into his nose.<p>

He staggered back, already feeling the blood trickle through his nostrils and down his face. The warmth running past his lips was enough to wake him back up, and he soon saw his counterpart's expression.

He had expected to see anger to match his own, or fear at everything that was going on. He didn't expect to see a wide, mad grin on the other's face.

But that's exactly what he saw. The other Crona was smiling at him, showing his bloodied teeth eagerly. If Crona had been thinking rationally, he would've noted that this other him still had the black blood, and that it was most likely affecting his demeanour.

Even if Crona had been thinking rationally, however, the fact that this other him was _laughing_ would've destroyed that.

Crona had accused his other self of hurting Maka, of not being able to trust her, and now he was _laughing_ at him. Almost as if he was mocking him for being right.

Almost exactly like Dracula.

That thought sent Crona spiraling deeper into fury, and he let out a roar as he lunged at his counterpart and tackled him to the ground.

The other him looked up just in time for Crona's hands to wrap around his throat, squeezing tightly and constricting his air flow. Crona's teeth were grit as he glared down at his choking counterpart.

He felt the other Crona's hands wrap around his throat as well, squeezing with bruising force, but he barely noticed. The only thought running through his mind was to simply shut him up, to get him to stop laughing, to stop mocking him...

He then felt something burst through his stomach, pushing him away from the other Crona and causing his grip to loosen.

"Alright, cool it already! Enough's enough!" Ragnarok shouted, placing himself between the two Cronas.

* * *

><p>Chrona lay on the floor, gasping. The other Chrona's hands were still wrapped around his throat, and his vision had started to go fuzzy around the edges. But his double's grip had loosened...enough for him to breathe, anyway. He heard the voice, and his brows knit in puzzlement.<p>

_Ragnarok?_ Chrona hadn't felt him come out...

No, he thought. Not _his_ Ragnarok. The other Chrona's.

The realization that there _was _another Ragnarok somehow jolted him back to sanity, made everything real again. He blinked, mouth open. His arms fell to his sides. He could still taste blood, and his heart was still racing, but the high of the fight had evaporated. He felt dazed and shaken.

Then his own Ragnarok emerged from his chest. "No kidding," he said. "You've been talking for what, ten minutes, and you're already trying to kill each other? Somehow I think there's been a _slight _misunderstanding." He glanced at the other Ragnarok. "Uh...hi." A pause. "This is a little weird."

* * *

><p>Ragnarok looked at his double for a few seconds. Most people would be shocked or at least unsettled to find themselves face-to-face with a perfect clone; with someone who, essentially, was them.<p>

Ragnarok, however, simply rolled his eyes. "Yeah, no shit."

He glanced down at the other Crona before looking up at his own. "The fuck are you doing, man? Let go already!" He gave Crona a hard shove on the chest, forcing him to release his grip, then gave a few more shoves, pushing Crona off of the double and moving him away.

Crona's breath was now coming out in short, heavy gasps. Ragnarok flowed back inside him and out his back, then pressed his hands against the sides of Crona's head.

Crona looked down at the other him, the haze that had come with his anger now leaving him. With the lifting of that haze came realization.

With realization came horror.

"...oh no..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Ragnarok responded, rubbing Crona's temples.

"I almost-"

"Yeah, you did."

"I was about to-"

"Look, feel guilty later, calm your tits now!"

Crona felt Ragnarok's hands rubbing against the sides of his head in some strange attempt to calm him. His breathing was still laboured, and he had to force himself to close his eyes.

He focused on the darkness, on visualizing his problems, on them slowly floating away from him...

Soon enough, his breathing returned to a normal rate, coming out in slow, easy breaths.

* * *

><p>Chrona slowly sat up. His nose and mouth throbbed with a dull, warm pain. Nothing was broken, but there was probably blood all over his face. One hand drifted to his aching throat. He wondered if he had bruises.<p>

He looked up at the other Chrona, who had his eyes closed and was taking slow, deep breaths. Chrona himself had done the same thing many times, trying to calm himself down after a panic attack.

"You OK?" Ragnarok asked.

Chrona looked down to see Ragnarok's head sticking out of his chest, round eyes peering up at him. "Yeah," he murmured. "I'm OK." He looked up at his double again, his mind trying to make sense of what had just happened. Now that his fear had calmed, he could think again.

The trouble had all started when he mentioned the word. Somehow, learning about that had caused this other Chrona to assume all sorts of things about him and Maka.

This wasn't an enemy. It wasn't Medusa. If it was, he wouldn't have ceased his attack. But if they were really the same person, how could his double have misunderstood him so completely? Chrona could accept his other self not _knowing _the word, but for him to have such a turned-around idea of what it meant...

"You're not me," he said. His voice emerged a little shaky, but calmer than he'd expected. "We're both Chrona, b-but...we're different."

"You just now figured that out?" his Ragnarok asked.

"Well...y-yes...I thought..." He trailed off. Then he took a deep breath, slowly stood, and faced Crona. He was no longer thinking of him as his "other self." That somehow made the whole situation easier to deal with.

Chrona pushed past his uncertainty and forced himself to look Crona in the eye. "I d-don't understand why you think those things about me," he said quietly. "But you're wrong. I trust Maka. And I love her more than anything. And I would die before I hurt her or let anything bad happen to her."

* * *

><p>Crona's eyes opened at the sound of Chrona's voice. He stared back at him, noticing his now-calm, determined expression.<p>

Evidently, he had started to piece things together. He understood that they were two separate beings. Which meant that he must've thought that Crona was something else earlier.

_But what?_ he wondered. He pushed that thought aside. It would have to wait until later.

There was still some lingering doubt in the back of his mind, a vague suspicion that this was an enemy, that he was just saying what Crona wanted to hear in order to win his trust. But there was one part of Chrona's speech that stuck out.

He admitted that he loved Maka.

That was all that Crona needed.

"...Ragnarok, you can stop now."

Ragnarok removed his hands from the sides of Crona's head. "You sure?"

"Y-Yeah...I'm OK now."

Crona took one last deep breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose, already feeling Ragnarok heal his bruises. He looked at Chrona. It was time to get this cleared up.

"...I'm sorry." he said, wiping the blood from his nose. "I shouldn't have done that. I jumped to conclusions."

"Understatement of the year," Chrona's Ragnarok muttered under his breath.

"It's just...there are other Cronas besides us," Crona continued. "And some of them...well, they're not very nice. I was afraid you were a 'bad' one."

Chrona stood, clutching his arm, looking bewildered. "Other Cronas?"

Crona nodded. "And they're all a little different from each other. Just like us."

Chrona gave a small, uncertain nod. There was a slightly glazed look in his eyes, as if he were struggling to absorb the situation.

"I'd like to find out how different we are," Crona said. "Is…is it OK if I ask you some questions?"

Chrona hesitated, then took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "O-OK. Go ahead."

Crona already knew what question he had to ask first. And he couldn't help but note the irony in it. "This is going to be really weird...and I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but...boy or girl?"

Chrona tensed, his breath catching. He averted his gaze.

He knew a lot of people wondered about his gender, but very rarely did someone ask him so directly. How was he supposed to explain something like this? And to someone he'd just met?

A sudden realization flashed through his mind: _He's not like me._ If he was, he wouldn't ask the question like that, as if there could be only one of two answers.

Crona had been born a normal boy.

Chrona felt a brief, sharp spasm of envy, that Crona had never had to deal with the uncertainty, the confusion, the agonizing fear that no one could ever accept his body as it was. But the feeling faded quickly. Maka _had _accepted him, and he was learning to accept himself, too.

Chrona took a deep, steadying breath and met Crona's gaze again. "I'm a boy," he said. He was done with doubting that. "I'm n-not exactly...normal. But I'm a boy."

Crona held his hands up, trying to look apologetic. "I-I'm sorry...I know that that's a sensitive subject for the both of us. But...there are some Cronas out there who are different. So...I just wanted to know." He lowered his hands, before placing one of them on his own chest. "If it makes you feel better, I'm a boy too..."

_But what did he mean by "not normal"? _Crona wondered. _No Crona is "normal"..._

Ragnarok settled atop Chrona's head. "What he's got under his robe is no one's beeswax, anyway."

Chrona frowned, looking up at him. "Th-then why are you always trying to pull my robe up?"

"Why do you think? Because your reactions are hilarious."

"There, you see?" Ragnarok remarked while leaning on Crona's head. "I told you that's why I do the stuff I do."

Crona looked up at him, eyebrow raised. "I thought it was because I was your 'stress reliever.'"

"That too."

Chrona listened. Even if he and Crona were different, it seemed their interaction with the Ragnaroks was much the same. A strange feeling washed over him. This all still felt so surreal and dreamlike.

Crona sighed, looking back over at Chrona. "Second question...do you have a scar on your stomach?"

Chrona blinked in surprise. His hand moved to his stomach, pressing against the scar beneath his robe, where Medusa's arrow had gone into him. "Yes," he said. After a brief pause, he asked, "Don't you?"

Crona frowned. _Anime version, of course..._ He shook his head. "No, I don't."

Chrona's brow furrowed in confusion. Then his eyes widened as a horrifying thought flashed through his head. If Crona didn't have that scar, did that mean that he'd failed to save Maka? That she was…

He stopped that train of thought and drew in a shaky breath. Crona's Maka was still alive. If she wasn't, he would have said something about it. Still, he couldn't help asking, "Sh-she's all right, isn't she? Maka?"

At Crona's nod, the tension eased out of Chrona's shoulders. "Then...that never happened at all?" It was strange, to think that such a major event had simply never taken place in Crona's world. But that question led to another, more troubling one. "Wait," Chrona said. "If it never happened to you, then how did you know that _I _had a scar?"

Crona froze. He wasn't prepared to answer that question. How could he explain that to Chrona without telling him that he was a fictional character?

"U-Um...w-well, you see..." he stuttered, rubbing the back of his head. "This is...there's a lot to explain, about this place and all, but..." He placed his hands out in front of him, palms up. "Basically, all the Cronas come from other worlds...and most of those worlds are based off of two 'main' worlds..." He moved one hand up higher. "Your world is based off of one..." he said, before switching hands. "While mine is based off of the other." He then lowered his hands, letting them fall to his sides.

Chrona tilted his head. "Two 'main' worlds...?"

Crona nodded. "In your world, that fight with Medusa happened. In mine, it didn't."

"S-so...does that mean Medusa is still alive in your world?"

Crona shook his head again. "No...Medusa's dead for me too..." he replied. "Just...in a different way than yours..." He could clearly see it. He was back in that dark room, the food on the table, Medusa telling him how proud she was, her hugging him, Ragnarok appearing in his hands...

_No, don't._ he ordered himself. _This is not the time for that. Not with him here._

"Crona? Are you okay?"

He shook his head again, placing a hand on the side of his head. "Fine," he muttered. He took a deep breath, bringing himself under control. Focus on the moment. "One other thing...did Maka kill the Kishin in your world?"

"...the Kishin? Y-yes. She did." A slight smile curved Chrona's lips as he thought back to that day. Trust Maka to accomplish the impossible. His gaze drifted out of focus for a moment. "She's really amazing, isn't she?"

Crona noticed the dreamy, glazed-over look on Chrona's face, and couldn't help but smile himself._ Is that how I look when I think about her?_

"Y-Yeah...she really is..." he replied. It was so strange to actually talk to someone who viewed Maka with the same admiration and love that he did. If it wasn't another version of himself, he probably would've felt a little jealous.

"But...that's another difference between our worlds," he continued and lowered his hand, his smile disappearing. "In your world, she killed the Kishin...but in mine, they haven't even met yet. My Kishin is still alive."

Chrona's eyes widened. "Th-then...you're still searching?"

"We haven't found Asura yet. We should have by now, but..." He trailed off.

Chrona was silent a moment. Another question had occurred to him, but he wondered if he should ask.

They both had a Maka in their world, and Crona was obviously very close to his Maka, as well. Otherwise, he wouldn't have reacted so violently to the slightest suspicion that Chrona had done something bad to her. But was it the same? Was he in love with her, too? And if so, did she know?

It had taken Chrona so long to confess his own feelings. If things had happened differently, he might still be trying to hide it.

"Y-you and Maka...are you..." Chrona stopped, biting his lower lip.

Crona blinked at the sudden change of subject. "Are we...?" Then it dawned on him.

One thing he was just now noticing was that Chrona seemed to be a bit more open about his feelings for Maka. He had no problem admitting that he was in love with her, and now he was asking if Crona was with his Maka in a relationship.

Which could only mean that Chrona _was_ with his Maka.

It was a bit of a shock. He knew that other Cronas out there were with their Makas, or were in love with them, but to actually meet one face-to-face was something he hadn't expected. He was almost tempted to ask about it: about when they got together, how they got together, how long they had been together, how close they were...

He could feel his face flushing with embarrassment and frustration. He looked away, trying to hide his expression. "No...no, we aren't..." he answered, the bitterness in his voice clearly evident.

"Oh," Chrona said softly. He lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry. I sh-shouldn't have asked."

"It's fine," Crona responded dully. He couldn't help but be angry at himself. He hadn't even screwed up the nerve to talk to Maka about the subject, but somehow, Chrona had. Chrona was stronger than him.

He shook his head again. Now was not the time to focus on that. There were other things he needed to know.

He walked past Chrona and sat in one of the seats, placing his hands in his lap. "I think I'm getting a good idea of what your world is like. Did anything else important happen? Like, after the Kishin was killed?"

Chrona considered. "W-well, overall, things have been pretty quiet since then, b-but for me personally...a lot happened." He paused. "M-Medusa...she...we found out she survived that fight."

Crona's head whipped up. "She came back?"

Chrona lowered his gaze and nodded. "She was very sick and weak, though. Dying. She came after me and tried to possess me, but...I fought back. Sh-she's dead now." His voice was quiet, subdued.

It was one of Crona's worst fears realized. Somehow, despite Medusa's soul being effectively destroyed by Maka in Chrona's world, she had come back. Worse still, she had tried to _possess_ him. That was something Crona hadn't even considered. The idea of Medusa inhabiting his body, forcing him to watch as she slaughtered everyone she could...

_It could happen._ he thought. _I don't know what happened to her soul...she could come back, she could..._

Crona's hands started to shake. He gripped the arms of the seat.

"Th-that doesn't mean she'll come back in your world, too, does it?" Chrona said quickly, as if realizing what he'd done. "I mean, l-lots of things are different there, right?"

Crona looked away, still trembling a little. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out shakily.

Of course, he thought. What happened to other versions of himself wouldn't necessarily happen to him. He had already tried to drill that into his own head more than once. Still, to hear that it had actually happened...

"Y-Yeah...things are different," he stuttered, his hands no longer shaking. "For one thing...you know how, after you put the snake in Marie's tea, you ran away?"

Chrona tensed, clutching his arm a little tighter. "Y-yes," he murmured, his gaze downcast. "I shouldn't have done that, I know. I'm just grateful that Maka found me and brought me back."

Crona sighed, not liking what he was going to have to explain. But it seemed important to tell him the truth. "Well...I didn't do that," he said. "I went back to Medusa."

Chrona's jaw dropped, and his eyes slowly widened. When his voice finally escaped him, it was a faint squeak. "Wh-what?"

Even when Chrona had run away, he hadn't planned on returning to Medusa. He'd just wanted to be alone somewhere, to hide from the world. He couldn't imagine ever going back to her voluntarily. "You...wh-why?" he whispered. "Why would you..." A terrible thought struck him; if Maka had never found him that day, would _he _have gone back to Medusa eventually, simply because there was nowhere else he belonged? Would he return to that living hell out of sheer loneliness?

He averted his gaze, heart pounding. He didn't want to believe it was possible. But if Crona had done it...

No, he thought. He needed to stop thinking like that. They were two different people. Just because Crona had done it, that doesn't mean Chrona would have done the same.

Still, he wondered.

Crona looked away, all of his guilt flooding back all at once. He had chosen to go back to Medusa. He hadn't been forced. Medusa had tried to coerce him, but all he would've had to do was say "no", and everyone else in Death City would've protected him.

And yet, he went.

Now all he had to do was explain why. If only that was so easy.

"...I'd like to say it was because I was scared," he whispered, his head lowered. "That I thought she would attack the others if I didn't obey..."

But he knew that that wasn't true. And in some strange way, he had to admit that.

He was literally admitting the truth to himself.

"I don't know what it really was...maybe it was just habit. Maybe it was just because I always did what she said..."

Crona shivered, a bitter smile coming onto his face. "But...I think, some part of me...I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to make my mother happy."

Chrona listened silently. At those words, his heart wrenched.

Of course. It was the same reason he'd obeyed Medusa in the first place, the same reason he'd put the snake in Marie's coffee, even knowing he was jeopardizing the first chance at happiness he'd ever had. Fear had been part of it, but it was more than that, had always been more. Medusa had given him nothing but cruelty and indifference, had done nothing to earn his loyalty, but he'd felt it anyway.

He lowered his gaze. Unexpected tears stung the corners of his eyes, and he blinked them away. "I understand," he said, his voice very soft. A lump filled his throat, and he swallowed, trying to dislodge it. "It must have been painful, leaving everything behind."

Crona flinched, remembering. "...it was," he muttered. "It was one of the worst things that I ever felt...but it didn't last."

He paused, taking a slow breath, then continued. "I don't know how long I stayed with her. It felt like more than a year...everything is a blur, even now..." He started to shake again. "She experimented on me again...she was making the black blood stronger, trying to push me further to becoming a Kishin..." He closed his eyes, now feeling an immense amount of hate. Toward Medusa or himself, he wasn't sure. "She...I forgot them...I forgot about all of them."

Chrona stared, the breath frozen in his throat. Even his heart seemed to stop for a brief moment.

_Forgot...?_

How could Crona _forget_ something like that? It was impossible. Unless...

Could Medusa do that? Could she erase memories? Of course, she could do a lot of things with magic. It wasn't difficult to believe. But the idea that she could just _take _that...that time at Shibusen, that brief bit of light and happiness...Maka...

"Even her?" he whispered. "You forgot even her?"

Crona gave a small nod. "Even her."

Chrona placed a hand over the sudden, crushing pressure in his chest, his breaths coming in sharp spurts. It shouldn't have terrified him so much. Medusa was dead, after all. She couldn't hurt him anymore. But just the idea of forgetting Maka, as if she'd never existed...

A wave of dizziness washed over him. He struggled to regain control of himself, a hand pressed over his mouth and nose to slow his rapid breathing.

"I started to remember her after a while, but..." Crona stopped. Something seemed wrong. He could hear his counterpart breathing heavily, though it was muffled by something.

Crona looked up, and his eyes widened when he saw Chrona hunched over, hand over his mouth.

_Oh SHIT._

Crona was on his feet before he even realized what he was doing, hands held in front of him. "I-It's OK! You said your Medusa is dead, right? She can't do that to you now! She won't hurt you anymore!"

Chrona clung to the words. _She's dead. Medusa's dead. _He kept repeating it in his head, still struggling to get his breathing under control.

He wanted Maka there with him, wanted to hold her tight, just to reassure himself that she was real. He remembered the first time she'd embraced him, the warmth in her eyes as she smiled and held out a hand. He remembered her showing him around the school for the first time, offering comfort whenever he got nervous. The thought of losing all those precious memories was too painful for him to even consider. And Crona had actually gone through it. Not only had he lost all his friends and Maka, but he'd lost even the knowledge that it had ever happened.

He looked up, his eyes filled with tears. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but only a small, choked sound emerged.

No, Chrona told himself firmly. He wasn't going to cry, wasn't going to lose control of himself, not here, not now. He tried to blink away his tears, but they escaped, spilling down his face. He buried his face in the crook of one arm, shoulders shaking as he held back his sobs. "I'm s-sorry," he whispered. "I...I need a minute."

Crona opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't think of what to say. He slowly closed his mouth and lowered his hands reflexively.

Of course Chrona would be scared. It was an absolutely terrifying thought, and Chrona never had to even consider that it could happen to him. Crona had just introduced him to a whole new kind of horror.

Chrona stood with his face buried in his own arm, shaking like a leaf as small sobs came from his throat.

Before he could stop and think about what he was about to do, Crona moved forward and wrapped his arms around Chrona, pulling him into a hug.

Chrona tensed, his breath catching. For a moment he stood frozen, staring into space.

After the way things had started out between them, he'd been on guard, half-prepared for another outburst of anger. Even after things calmed down, a part of him had still wondered if Crona disliked or resented him. He hadn't expected something like this. Another tear spilled down his cheek.

Slowly, he relaxed and returned the hug. It wasn't the same as hugging Maka, but it calmed him, all the same. His rapid heartbeat slowed, and the pressure in his chest loosened, allowing him to breathe.

The tightness in his throat, however, wouldn't go away. All the fear and confusion of this whole overwhelming experience, all the strange new ideas he'd had to absorb since waking up in the theater...it was all too much. Just trying to keep his emotions under control was exhausting.

Another small, choked sound escaped him, halfway between a hiccup and a sob, and a few tears dripped down onto Crona's robe. "I'm sorry," Chrona whispered again. "I d-don't mean to...I just...I'm sorry."

Crona couldn't help but note the strangeness of the situation. He was literally hugging himself. He was actually physically holding himself. He would've laughed at how absurd it was if things weren't as bad as they were.

"It's OK," he whispered. "I understand."

And it was true. Crona did understand, better than anyone else. Which only added to the oddity of the situation.

"...after...after my Medusa died," he started, still holding Chrona, "Maka found me. As soon as she came back, I started remembering again. By the time she was done talking to me, I remembered everything." Crona gave a small, shaky sigh, trying to stay strong for his other self's sake. "When it happened...I cried. I cried for so long. I was scared, I was angry, I was upset...and I was happy. I could finally go back home. I had gone against them, and they forgave me...they welcomed me back home..."

At those words, some of the tension eased out of Chrona's shoulders. "I'm glad," he whispered.

Crona paused, staring into empty space. "I know this is a lot to take in all at once...b-but I think you were brought here for a reason. I don't know what that is...but maybe it has to do with us."

"I don't understand," Chrona murmured. "Brought here by who? How? None of this makes sense."

Crona wondered about that, himself.

How _did_ The Host even bring Chrona here? And why? Chrona said he just woke up in the theater, so he didn't find it like everyone else did. Then again, Subarashii had been placed there, so maybe The Host had done the same for him.

He pulled back to get a look at Chrona's face. "I think I need to tell you more."

Chrona flinched. "Th-there's more?" His voice emerged a little shaky. He wasn't sure how much more he could take. Already, his concept of reality had been shattered. He could feel his tenuous grip on sanity slipping. "I d-don't know if I should be here at all," he said. "Maybe I was just brought here by mistake. I...I th-think I should just go home." A thought occurred to him, and his heart lurched. He clutched Crona's shoulders. "There _is _a way to get back, isn't there?" He heard the panic in his own voice. "W-we're not_...stuck _here, are we?"

Crona blinked.

_Could_ he go back? Was there a path to Chrona's world, just like there was one to Crona's? Or did The Host bring Chrona here another way? Could he even do that?

"I don't know much about the one who made this place," he said. "I don't know who or what he is. I don't know _why_ he made this place, why he brought me here. And I don't know why he brought you here, or how." He sighed before gently removing Chrona's arms from his shoulders. "But I know that he has never kept anyone here against their will. I'm sure that he'll send you back home. I don't know when, or what'll make him do that...but I'm sure he will."

Chrona clutched his own arm, trembling slightly.

He wanted to believe that. He wanted to feel certain that he _would _be sent home again. But he didn't know anything about this person who'd brought him here…and Crona, it seemed, didn't know much beyond the fact that he existed. How could they trust someone they knew nothing about?

Chrona took another deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet but firm. "Even if this person is planning to send me back, I don't know when that will happen. Maka might have already noticed I'm gone, and if she hasn't, she will soon. I don't want her to be worried. I...I d-don't want her to think that I've run away." He looked Crona in the eye. "I've run away too many times. I promised her that I'd never disappear again. I can't stay here." He looked around the theater, and his gaze settled on the door in the back of the room.

He didn't know what he'd find outside, or if there was even a way to get back home from here, but he had to at least try. "Th-that's the exit...isn't it?"

Crona sighed. "Yes, that's the exit..." Crona glanced up at it. "When you go outside, you'll see a few hallways. One of them leads back to my world, while the others go to other worlds. I can't really explain how, but if there is one for you, you'll know which one it is. You just will."

Crona couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Despite everything that had happened, he wanted to know more about his other self. About what other things he experienced, how things were for him in his Death City, what things with Maka were like. This was a rare opportunity for him, and his curiosity was getting the better of him.

Still, he knew that if he was in Chrona's position, he'd want to go home too.

Maybe it was for the best.

"OK." Chrona hesitated, looking at Crona. A strange feeling washed over him. They were just now getting to know each other...and once he left, he doubted he'd ever get the chance to talk to Crona again.

But he knew that staying wasn't an option. "Th-thank you," he said at last, quietly. "And...I'm sorry about what happened earlier. I'm g-glad we had the chance to talk." He paused, then smiled shyly and held out a hand.

Crona blinked in surprise, then looked down at the extended hand. He looked back up at Chrona, then smiled, reached forward, took the hand, and shook it lightly. "I'm sorry too. And it was nice talking to you. Who knows? Maybe you could come back some day." He suspected that wasn't something Chrona really wanted, but Crona found himself hoping this wouldn't be the last time they saw each other.

"M-maybe." Chrona paused, looking down at their linked hands, then slowly relaxed his grip and let go. He stared at Crona a moment longer, then lowered his gaze, turned away, and walked toward the exit.

Ragnarok emerged from his back and settled onto his head. "You sure you want to leave things like this?" he whispered. "Once you walk out that door, you're never coming back, you know."

Chrona stopped walking. "I know," he murmured under his breath. He felt a tiny twinge of regret, but it wasn't enough to shake his resolve. He took a deep breath and kept walking until he reached the door in the back of the theater. He tried to turn the knob, but it wouldn't move.

Locked.

Chrona stared at the door. His mouth went dry. Sweat dampened his palms as his heartbeat accelerated.

He should have known it wouldn't be that easy, that he couldn't just walk out. Whoever had brought them here wouldn't go to all that trouble without taking a few precautions to make sure they stayed awhile.

Knowing that he _couldn't _leave, however, just inflamed the animal instinct to escape his cage. Despite the spaciousness of the theater, he felt trapped and claustrophobic. His chest constricted, as if a giant hand had squeezed his lungs.

He couldn't get out. Couldn't go home. He was stuck here, in this room, until he did whatever his kidnapper wanted him to do, but he had no way of knowing what that was. They could be trapped here for hours, for days, for an eternity.

He fought back against the rising tide of panic. Maybe Crona would know what to do. "The doors won't open!" Chrona called.

Crona ran up the stairs and up beside Chrona, eyes wide. "He locked them?" he choked out, starting to panic himself.

He grabbed one of the doorhandles and pulled, grunting when the door didn't budge. He started turning the handle, getting angrier with the constant dull clicks that it made.

"He's never done this before!" he shouted. He then started hitting the doors with his shoulder, growling with each futile blow.

He then moved back a bit, glaring at the doors.

_How does Subarashii do it..._

He raised his leg and gave the doors a sharp kick.

He then let out a shout, hopping around while holding one foot.

Chrona watched, an uncertain look on his face, as Crona hopped awkwardly on one leg. "Are you OK?"

Crona let go of his leg, letting his foot stomp the floor as he let out another growl. "He's not doing this...there is no way he's doing this..." He took a few steps back, glaring daggers at the twin doors. He crouched down slightly, tensing up. "_Let us OUT_!"

Crona charged forward, jumping up and hitting the doors with his shoulder.

_WHAM_!

Crona bounced back off of the doors, landing back on his feet and stumbling back a little. The back of his foot slipped off of the top step, and as he let out a shout of surprise, he went tumbling down the stairs, giving a loud shout of pain with every step that he hit before landing in a heap at the bottom.

"C-Crona?" Chrona called, alarmed. It felt odd, shouting out his own name like that, but he was too concerned to dwell on it. He hurried down the stairs and crouched beside his double.

Crona didn't seem to be hurt, but he was still glaring furiously at the door.

Chrona took a deep breath. "Hang on. Let me try something." He climbed the stairs again. Gritting his teeth, he extended one arm, fingers spread, and said, "Ragnarok."

Ragnarok peered down at him. "You're gonna bust through?"

"I have to."

"If you say so." Ragnarok transformed into a sword, and Chrona's fingers curled around the hilt. If their kidnapper didn't want to let them out, he'd slash his way out. He raised Ragnarok high above his head, then brought him down with a scream, slicing down the center of the door.

He lowered the sword, panting...and stared in astonishment.

The door looked like ordinary wood. The blade should have cut through it like butter. Instead, it had barely scratched the surface...and as he watched, the scratch smoothed out and vanished. Chrona stood, shock-frozen, mouth open. "Wh-what...?"

"Try again," Ragnarok said.

He slashed the door again and again. But it was the same result each time. As fast as he cut through the wood, the cuts shrank and disappeared, leaving the door whole and untouched once more.

At last, he stopped. His arms lowered. His knees trembled and gave out, and he sank to the stairs, his head spinning. Chrona bowed his head.

No way out.

He could try to hack through the wall, or search for another exit, but deep down, he knew it was pointless. No matter what he tried, the same thing would happen. They were prisoners.

Oddly, Chrona didn't feel angry. He'd exhausted his supply of anger, and rage wouldn't help against an invisible, untouchable opponent, anyway. He was just worried; worried about Maka and whether she'd noticed his absence, worried about the situation, worried about what would happen next.

Chrona climbed down the stairs, forced a tiny, strained smile, and said, "I guess we're stuck." The sword vanished from his hand, recoiling back into his body. "You said he brought us here for a reason. I don't know what that reason could be, but it looks like we're not leaving until we figure it out."

Crona groaned, rubbing the back of his head. He turned away from the door and looked up at the screen.

Chrona was right. It was pointless to fight against The Host. Crona knew that all too well. But some small part of him liked to think that The Host had enough of a moral code to not force them to take part in the theater's antics. He had always given them the idea that they had some degree of free will, that they could leave at any time.

_"__**If you think I've been cruel to you before, you will find that I can be much worse when I don't get what I want."**_

Crona's teeth grit as that sentence resurfaced in his mind. He slowly got to his feet, still glaring at the screen.

"Host! I know you can hear me! Why are you keeping us here? What do you want?" he shouted.

He waited for the shrill, staticy sound to come over the sound system, for the screen to light up and the black line to appear.

He could feel himself start to shake with anger when nothing happened.

"Come on! I talked to you before, I know I can do it again! What do you want us to do?"

He waited for a response, any sort of answer from the strange being that was behind all of this. Still nothing.

He clenched his teeth even tighter, to the point that his entire mouth was starting to hurt.

Chrona stood, watching in bafflement as Crona shouted at the screen. Did he expect it to respond? _Host. _Crona had called the being Host. Was that its name?

Slowly, Chrona approached and stood next to him, looking up at the blank screen. "You've talked to him before?" he asked quietly.

Crona sighed, lowering his head in defeat.

"Yes...one time, when I wanted more information on my world," he explained. "That's the only time I've ever spoken to him directly." He raised his head again, turning to look at Chrona. "This has never happened before. He's never forced anyone to stay here. This is...this is all wrong..." Equal parts confusion and despair flooded Crona's mind. He thought that he had finally gained some sort of understanding about how The Host worked, and now he was proven wrong. Everything he knew about The Host could be wrong as well. There was no way of knowing what else he was willing to do.

He wondered if his emotions were clear on his face. He hoped they weren't. He needed to be stronger here, to help Chrona get through this. Crona knew what was going on. Chrona didn't. He had to guide him through this as much as he could.

Chrona watched him, uncertainty in his expression. "Wh-what is he like? The Host. What sort of person is he?"

Crona turned, walked back to his seat, and sat. "It's...it's hard to say." He clasped his hands together and rested his chin on them. "Like I said, I've only talked to him directly once. Most of the time he just sends us letters with requests." Crona frowned, not liking the fact that he was going to make the comparison, but it was the most accurate one he could think of. "I think...the best way I can describe him is that he's like...he's like Professor Stein. He says that he's a scientist, and that he's incredibly curious. He wants to see how things work. The only difference is that Stein wants to pick bodies apart...and The Host seems to like making people's minds break."

He didn't like to consider the possibility that The Host genuinely wanted to hurt them, but now that they were being forced to stay in the theater, it didn't seem all that unlikely.

Chrona approached and slowly sat next to him. "If he's like Professor Stein, then...I guess that means this is an experiment?" His voice wavered a little. "M-maybe he just wants to see what happens if we're trapped here together...what we'll do."

Crona sighed, placed his hands on the sides of his head, and looked down at his lap. "That's all he ever wants," he muttered. "Just throw people in a room, make them do things, and see what happens. How many times can he do that before he gets tired of it?"

Chrona listened. If that was the case, he thought, maybe The Host would let them out again once he got bored with watching them interact. But then again...

_The Host seems to like making people's minds break._

Chrona shuddered. Maybe their kidnapper would just keep them in here until they broke down completely and killed each other in a frenzy of madness.

But no, that didn't seem likely. For one thing, Chrona had the impression that Crona had been cooperating voluntarily with The Host for some time...though why, he wasn't sure. If this Host was _that _bad a person, Crona wouldn't have stuck around this long. For another, if The Host was indeed a scientist, he must have some goal more specific than just wanting to destroy their minds. He was testing something by locking them in here together. They just had no idea what.

"I gu-guess you were right," Chrona murmured. He stared down at his bunched fists. "I guess we need to talk some more. But...s-somehow, I don't think just comparing our two worlds will get us very far. I mean, The Host already knows about all that, right? So whatever he's trying to find out is something different."

Crona lowered his hands and sat back up, before looking at Chrona. "Well, what else can we talk about?"

Chrona paused, thinking. "I don't know," he admitted. He'd been hoping Crona would have some ideas. He looked down, tapping his forefingers together.

Ragnarok settled atop his hair. "Come on, this is lame." He thumped a fist against Chrona's head, making him wince. "We're probably gonna be stuck in this room for awhile, no matter what. If you're not gonna talk, at least _do _something instead of sitting there in awkward silence."

"The other me's right." Ragnarok laid on Crona's head, drumming his fingers on his scalp. "You can't just sit here and contemplate your navels or whatever."

Crona looked up at him. "Were you trying to bring the counter up?"

"Yeah, I was. I guess he turned it off. Anyway, think about it! You're literally in the same room with your clone. There has to be something that you can do!"

Crona looked back down, placing a hand under his chin while he thought. He was stuck in a room, the doors were locked, there was a chance that someone could be watching them, and he was with an alternate version of himself. What _could_ they do?

"...I have an idea."

* * *

><p>"I seriously can't believe you're doing this." Ragnarok grumbled. "Just...<em>anything<em> would be better than this. It's bad enough that _she_ corrupted you like this, but...you're literally corrupting yourself here!"

"It wouldn't kill you to give it a chance, Ragnarok," Crona remarked.

"There is no way in Hell that you're going to get me into those goddamned ponies!"

Chrona stared at the array of plastic figurines. He and Crona were both sitting on the floor of the theater, with the six tiny ponies standing between them. Chrona had his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms folded atop them.

Ragnarok, still resting atop his head, sighed. "I have to agree with the other me. I mean...seriously, what the hell?_"_

Chrona frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Come on, do you really need me to explain why this is ridiculous?" Ragnarok grabbed his head. "You're Chrona Makenshi, the Demon Swordsman. And you're _playing with My Little Ponies."_

Chrona ignored him and picked up the little purple unicorn. "Th-this one is cute."

Ragnarok sighed and covered his eyes with his tiny round hands. "This is embarrassing on so many levels, I don't even know where to start."

Ragnarok grumbled. "Welcome to my world, other me. I swear, as soon as Flat-Chest showed him an episode of the show, he just won't shut up about them!"

"Don't call her that," Crona said.

"Shut up. Seriously, this shit is girly, even for _you_."

"Guys watch this show too, you know."

"And they probably had to check their balls in at the front gate!"

"I heard some of them served in the army."

"...shut up!"

Ragnarok punctuated this statement with a quick smack to Crona's head, which only served to annoy him.

"_Anyway_..." Crona pointed at the figure Chrona was holding. "That one is Twilight Sparkle. She's sort of the main character of the show, and she acts like the leader of all six of them. She's really smart, and she loves just sitting in her library and reading her books. She's kind of socially awkward, and can be a little overbearing, but she's usually really eager to learn and to be a good friend."

A tiny smile flickered across Chrona's face. "That sounds a little like Maka. I mean...Maka's really smart, and a leader, and a good friend too."

"Except instead of 'a little overbearing,' make that 'incredibly bossy'," Ragnarok added.

"Sh-she's not bossy," Chrona protested. "She's just strong-willed."

"Strong-willed as in, 'if you piss her off, she'll bash your head in with a giant dictionary.' By the way, have either of you figured out where she keeps that thing? I don't understand where she'd _fit _it."

Ragnarok tilted his head, still leaning on Crona. "Well, I do have a theory about that...but Crona gets _really_ pissy if I say it out loud."

"Because it's absolutely disgusting, even for you," Crona stated.

"Oh, come on, you have to admit, it has some merit-"

"Excuse me." Crona said to Chrona, before getting up and walking past him. After a few seconds, Crona walked back into Chrona's line of sight and sat down in front of him, Ragnarok's mouth shut and his cheeks comically puffed out.

"Sorry about him." he said. "Anyway, I guess you're right, Twilight is like Maka that way...but she's also a bit like Kid, with her freaking out over the little details."

Chrona looked thoughtfully at the figures, then picked up the yellow pony. "What about this one?"

Crona pointed at it. "That one's Fluttershy. She's the really quiet one of the group. Really shy...though that was probably obvious from her name. She has a hard time interacting with anyone, outside of the animals that she takes care of. But she's really sweet and kind, and really nice to her friends too."

Chrona studied the pony, noting that its mane was the same shade of pink as his hair. Quiet and shy, and she had a hard time dealing with people...it was easy to see the connection. "She's your favorite, isn't she?"

Ragnarok pulled on his hair. "Look, I don't care if Chuck Norris watches this show, this is still totally gay. Seriously, even if you two started making out it _still _wouldn't be as gay as this!"

Chrona made a small, choked sound. He covered his eyes with one hand, embarrassed. "R-Ragnarok, we're not going to..."

"I know, and believe me, I don't want to see it. I'm just saying. Can't we go back to sitting in awkward silence?"

"I d-don't see what's wrong with this."

"What's _wrong _with it?" He pointed at the ponies with one round, paw-like hand. "The only one that doesn't look _completely _dumb is that one with the rainbow hair."

Chrona uncovered his eyes and blinked. "You like that one?"

He huffed. "I didn't say I _liked _it! Just that it looked less dumb than the rest."

Crona sighed, choosing to ignore Chrona's Ragnarok. "I wouldn't say Fluttershy is my _favourite_...but I do sympathize with her a lot," he said, blushing slightly. "Then again, that's kind of obvious, isn't it?"

A tiny smile tugged at Chrona's lips. He turned the pony figurine around in his hands, studying the butterfly mark on its flank. He glanced at the others. "The marks all have something to do with their personalities, don't they? L-like, that one has little apples."

Crona picked up the orange pony figure and held it up to show Chrona. "They're called Cutie Marks-"

His Ragnarok let out what was unmistakably a gagging sound, which he ignored.

"...and they represent what each pony's special talent is. Twilight's shows how good she is at magic, while Fluttershy's shows her talent with animals. This one is, obviously, for growing and harvesting apples."

He carefully placed the figure in the palm of his hand so that Chrona could get a good look at it. "This one is Applejack, by the way. Applejack is the most reliable of the group, very hard-working and trustworthy. She spends most of her time working on her family's apple farm, and she does have trouble with shouldering too much responsibility. But she's always willing to help her friends out if they need it. She's Maka's favourite, actually..."

He then pointed at the blue pegasus, before looking up at the other Ragnarok. "And you would probably like her. Rainbow Dash is the tough one, wanting to be the fastest flyer in all of Equestria and join the stunt flying team The Wonderbolts. She's a bit of a braggart, and she's obsessed with being the best, but she's willing to put her friends' wants before hers."

Ragnarok leaned down to study the figure more closely, though he kept glancing off to the side, as if he were making an effort not to look too interested.

Chrona smiled. "Sh-she sounds a little like Black Star." He looked from Rainbow Dash to Applejack. "I wonder if Applejack would be my Maka's favorite, too." He paused. "It feels strange, thinking that way. I mean like...'my Maka' and 'your Maka.'"

Crona sighed and placed the Applejack figure down. "That's something you get used to, after a while," he said. "I've seen so many 'other Makas', 'other Souls', 'other Kids', and so on. Sometimes it can be hard to distinguish them. They all have certain traits that each version keeps, no matter how...wrong some of them are." He looked up at Chrona, forcing a small smile onto his face. "But, I think the ones that are 'good' aren't all that different. I'm sure that applies to both of our Makas."

Chrona nodded uncertainly. It was hard for him to imagine seeing other versions of his friends...people who were like them, who shared their names and faces, but who weren't the same.

It must have been so confusing for Crona, the first time he encountered one of those other versions. Chrona was just now beginning to have an idea of how much his double had endured, all the strange and bewildering things he had gone through.

But no matter how many Makas were out there or what they were like, Chrona knew there was only one that mattered to him, and that was his Maka; the one who had saved him, the one he had fallen in love with. No one else, no matter how similar, could ever be exactly like her.

He found himself hoping, again, that she wasn't worried about him. He didn't want to cause her any pain. But while the doors were locked, there wasn't much they could do, so he tried to focus on the moment.

Chrona turned his attention back to the ponies and pointed at a white unicorn figure. "Who's that?"

Crona grabbed the unicorn figurine and held it up. "This one is Rarity," he started. "She's always worried about her looks and about being sophisticated. And sometimes she can be pretty self-centered...but she's also very giving. She has no problem giving her friends what they want or what she hopes they want without asking for anything in return. And she does bring a lot of grace and sophistication. Plus...it's actually really funny to watch her be overdramatic..."

He then picked up the pink pony. "And this one is Pinkie Pie. She's the energetic one, always bouncing around and speaking really fast. She's always thinking about throwing parties and having fun, no matter who she's with. She can be a little confusing in how random she is at times, but she wants to make her friends happy, no matter what. She's actually Kim's favourite...though I'm still not sure why."

At the mention of Kim, Chrona looked up with a small, puzzled frown. "Kim?" It seemed odd to him, that Crona would know her favorite. Chrona had barely ever spoken to her, after all. "How well do you know her?"

Crona blinked. "Oh, right...I guess you don't really talk to her, do you?"

"N-no," Chrona replied, "though I guess that's strange, now that I think of it. I mean, sh-she's the only other witch in Shibusen."

"It's...it's actually a funny story how we first met." He glanced away from Chrona, suddenly looking somewhat embarrassed. "See...one day, I found this bag of chocolate-covered coffee beans-"

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute!" Ragnarok interjected, grabbing Crona's head and tilting it up. "How the hell do you know about that? Who told you?"

"...no one? I remembered it?"

"But...but I thought you thought it was all a dream!"

"It was way too vivid to be a dream, Ragnarok..."

Ragnarok paused, then gave Crona a sharp smack on the head.

"OW!"

"You could have said something! Maka's got half the city scared she's going to kill them if they even bring it up!"

Chrona stared, bewildered. "Bring _what _up?"

Crona sighed, pushing Ragnarok away from him. "I found a bag of chocolate-covered coffee beans and wound up eating all of them. I might've got a little hyper after that..."

"He made a complete fool of himself," Ragnarok added.

"It wasn't _that_ bad..."

"You kept trying to get me to stare at your ass, because you called it a 'perfectly voluptuous' one. Yes, _it was that bad_."

Crona flushed brightly.

Chrona blinked. "...really?" He tried to imagine himself saying that to Ragnarok, and just the thought caused him to start blushing, as well. He looked down, tapping his fingers together. "I've never had chocolate covered coffee beans," he murmured. "M-maybe that's just as well." He made a mental note to avoid them, in the future. He wasn't sure if they'd affect him the same way they did Crona, but it was probably best to be on the safe side. "B-but what does that have to do with Kim?"

Crona smiled sheepishly. "Well, she was the first one I ran into after I ate them...literally, I crashed right into her and Jacqueline." He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "After that, I noticed that we have the same hair colour and jumped to the conclusion that we were related. It really should've just been passed off as nothing...but it actually stuck with her." Crona looked down at the floor, a shadow of sadness passing over his face. "As it turns out, she never knew who her parents were. The coven raised her collectively, and Medusa was a witch, so it wasn't entirely impossible...she wanted to know what having a family was like, even if it was just a brother..."

He started to absentmindedly drum his fingers on his knees. "When she told me all that...I have to admit, I felt sorry for her. We're actually a bit alike...we're both outcasts, in our own ways. And we both have problems with family, apparently. So, I became her friend." He looked back up at Chrona. "I don't know if it's the same for your Kim, but...I'm sure you'd get along with yours. She's actually really nice when she warms up to you."

"I never thought we might be related," Chrona said. "But come to think of it, she's the only other person I've met with hair like mine." He reached up and gingerly patted the top of his own hair.

Crona shrugged slightly. "It _is_ a little weird that we're the only two people in Death City with pink hair."

Chrona nodded. "Th-though...in my world, at least, I don't think we _could_ be siblings. My father was human-but that's really all I know about him, I never met him at all. And I don't think Medusa ever had any other children."

A contemplative frown came over Crona's face as he rested a hand under his chin. "I don't think I've seen any male witches at all...except for Free, but I'm not sure he really counts, since he has Mabaa's eye. So it could be that all witches have human fathers."

"I don't think so," Chrona murmured. "At least...not if what Medusa told me is true." He didn't really want to go into that, but he remembered it all too clearly. Medusa had told him that when witches and humans had children, they turned out…wrong. Like Chrona was.

He pushed the thought away. He needed to stop thinking like that. "Anyway…if Kim is a nice person, like you say, maybe I should start talking to her more. I guess I was always afraid to. Afraid that she wouldn't like me, or something silly like that. If nothing else, she might be able to teach me how to use my witch powers."

Crona's frown changed to a reassuring smile. "She _is_ a little hard to approach. Especially considering she used to bully kids out of their money...but she really is nice, if a little too pushy for-"

He stopped, the last part of what Chrona said sinking in to his mind.

"...wait...you have witch powers?"

"Y-yes," Chrona said. "They just surfaced a little while ago, actually. I'd show you now, but I might end up burning a hole in the wall or something."

"That would be a good thing, right?" Ragnarok asked. "I mean, you two _are _trapped in here."

"Oh yeah." He paused, then slowly stood and faced the nearest wall. He took a deep breath and extended his arms, palms out.

He hadn't completely mastered his powers yet. He hoped this would work. If not, he was going to look really silly. "Sala-mala-mala-mander!"

Pink lightning leaped from his palms, sizzling through the air, and struck the wall with a thunderous crack. It left a smoking black hole in the plaster, but sure enough, the hole instantly shrank and vanished, just as the cuts in the door had.

Crona slowly got to his feet, jaw hanging open, his gaze locked onto the spot that Chrona had just attacked.

Chrona turned toward him and gave him a tiny, shy smile, clutching his arm. "I c-can do some other stuff too, and I have an animal form. But so far I've only transformed once and it took me awhile to change back, so I'm a little nervous to try it again."

Crona kept staring. He had literally just seen another version of himself shoot pink lightning out of his hands. How was he supposed to respond to that?

Luckily, Ragnarok had a comment.

"...so, you're a salamander witch?" he remarked. "Man, your animal totem sucks."

Chrona blushed and ducked his head, clutching his arm. "I kn-know it doesn't sound like much. But..."

Ragnarok planted his hands atop Chrona's head and turned around to face his double. "Hey, he can shoot _lightning _out of his hands. Who cares if his animal totem is lame?"

Chrona blinked. Had Ragnarok just defended him? "L-like I was saying...salamanders might not seem very strong, but there are advantages to being one. Like, th-they can regenerate limbs if they lose them. And Maka thinks they're cute." He fidgeted, worried he might have sounded too boastful. "It's better than being a snake, anyway."

Crona stared at his counterpart for a second, then smiled slightly. _Trust Maka to think of a positive. _"Well...when you put it like that-" he started, before his Ragnarok interrupted.

"Hey, who cares if he can shoot lightning out of his hands? We've never needed no stinkin' magic lightning! We can kick tons of ass without it!"

He then reached down and grabbed Crona's wrist, holding his arm up. "You know what this kid did? He punched Dracula in the face! Him! Fist! Dracula! Face! And we didn't need no magic lightning to do it, either!"

Crona stared up at Ragnarok, a mixture of surprise and confusion on his face. Was he bragging about his accomplishments?

"Dracula?" Chrona's Ragnarok repeated, surprise in his voice. "Really? I mean..." He cleared his throat. "Punching Dracula in the face is all well and good, but you know what's even better? Punching Medusa in the face."

Chrona winced. "R-Ragnarok, I don't really want to talk about that."

"Why not? It was fucking epic."

"I just..." His gaze darted nervously back and forth. "I don't want to talk about it."

Crona's eyes widened in shock. "You actually-"

"Hey, well, you know what's even better than punching her in the face?" Ragnarok interrupted. "Stabbing her in the gut."

Crona flinched. "Stop."

"What? It's true! It was fucking satisfying to finally gut that bitch, then just keep stabbing her over and over and over-"

"I said _stop_!"

Crona pulled his arm from Ragnarok's grip and averted his gaze. He knew it was going to be difficult to explain that, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to even start.

For a moment, Chrona just stared at him. "You..." His voice wavered and trailed off.

"You stabbed her?" Chrona's Ragnarok asked. He sounded impressed in spite of himself. "How did that happen?"

Crona tensed. Now that it was out there, there was no going back. He would have to tell Chrona the truth.

He just hoped things didn't go too badly.

He walked over to his seat and slowly sat back down.

"...I was in Ukraine." Crona started, looking down at his lap. "I had just killed a...a lot of people...including the Russian Death Scythe and his meister. She...Medusa was happy to see me, after I got back..."

He placed his hands in his lap, clasping them tightly. "She made me pasta for dinner...she kept talking about how proud she was of me...then...she _hugged_ me."

He started to shake, remembering what had happened. The confusion. The anguish. The hatred.

"It didn't make sense...she had never done anything like that before...she was never once so nice to me...a-and I was so deep in Madness...I-I thought she was an impostor..." His eyes had widened, his entire body shaking. It was almost like he was trying to justify his actions rather than explain them. "I didn't even r-realize what happened...until I was done..."

Chrona listened, holding his breath. His mouth had gone dry.

He could imagine it all too easily; the confusion, the growing fear. After years of abuse, to have her suddenly turn around and show kindness...

He didn't have to wonder what it was like, because he'd experienced it, though in a much different way and at a much younger age. And it had broken him, just as it had broken Crona.

Chrona took a deep breath, trying to get himself under control, but suddenly he couldn't stop shaking. He clutched his arms, gulped, and lowered his gaze. After what Crona had just told him, it seemed only fair to tell his own story. Even if he didn't really want to. "I didn't kill my Medusa," he whispered at last. "She...she was already weakened by that point. After certain things happened...she died on her own. Like she'd just given up." He was silent a moment. "I thought I'd feel better once she was dead. But I don't. I mean…I'm glad she can't hurt anyone anymore. But other than that, I don't know what to feel."

Crona looked up at Chrona, his own shaking starting to subside as he watched his counterpart.

_She gave up?_

That didn't sound like Medusa at all. Medusa was always scheming, always planning. She would never give up until she got what she wanted. But Chrona had said that his Medusa was sick, so maybe she had become weak enough to want to give up.

He wanted to press Chrona for more information, but Chrona looked terrified to even discuss the concept. And he couldn't blame him, considering how much his own experience with Medusa hurt him.

Before he could stop himself, though, one question left his lips. "Do you miss her?"

At the question, Chrona tensed, his breath hissing softly between his teeth. He stared at the floor, trembling harder. "I don't know," he whispered. He shut his eyes to hold back the tears welling up. "I...she...she was so cruel to me. She hurt me so much. I still have panic attacks and nightmares. Y-you'd think that after all this time, it would have gotten a little easier, but sometimes it still feels like it all happened yesterday." He rubbed the back of one hand across his eyes. "Most of the time, I'm glad she's gone. But...s-sometimes..." He trailed off. A bitter, aching knot had lodged itself in his chest.

"It seems wrong," he whispered at last. "After all she did...it seems twisted to say that a part of me still loves her, but..." He trailed off. He hadn't meant to admit that much. The words had just spilled out. He stared at the floor, his hands curling into fists.

Crona's gaze remained locked on Chrona as his mind processed what he'd just heard.

He did miss her. To some small degree, Chrona missed Medusa. Even after everything she did, presumably the same things Crona's Medusa did to him, he still cared about her.

He flat out admitted that he loved her.

Crona slowly got to his feet and walked over to Chrona, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I guess I was right." he said, a small, solemn smile on his face. "You're better than me."

Chrona blinked in confusion. "I'm not, though. Ih-it...it would make more sense, for me to hate her completely." More tears welled up, and he blinked them away. "You're stronger than I am. It seems like you've left all that behind you. But I don't know if I'll ever be able to do that. It's too much a part of me."

Crona shook his head. "But you _are_ better, Chrona. You're compassionate enough to care about someone who no one else will, including me." He smiled again, moving his hand away from his shoulder. "I wish I could forgive Medusa for what she's done to me...but I can't. I just can't."

Chrona hesitated. "I don't know if my reasons are anything as noble as what you're thinking. For the longest time, Medusa was the one I depended on. I thought no one else would ever accept me or need me." He exhaled slowly. His trembling had subsided a bit. It felt surprisingly good to talk about it, as if a weight had been lifted off of him. "I loved her because I had no choice. I guess it's a hard habit to break."

Crona frowned, turning away. Of course, he thought. When he was that age, who else was there to love? Could he even really understand what love was?

"...I get what you mean." he murmured. "Sometimes I worried that I was just clinging onto people...onto Maka in particular...because that was what I did with Medusa. That I thought that that was what love was supposed to be..."

He took a few steps away from Chrona, still facing away from him. "But, that isn't it. Even if my Maka doesn't love me the same way I love her...she does care about me. That's better than what I had with Medusa. And I don't know if breaking away from Medusa is a sign of strength. If anything...I think it just means that I'm more cruel than I used to be."

Chrona stared uncertainly at Crona's back. "Y-you...you don't seem like a cruel person, to me. I mean...after everything that happened..." A lump rose into his throat. "I wish, sometimes, that I could just forget about it. But then, if I forgot my past, I wouldn't really be _me._ And I've found people who love me just as I am." His friends' faces drifted through his mind. His thoughts lingered on one face in particular. "I never knew what real love was, until I met Maka," he said softly. "She's the first person who ever really understood me. She never judged me. No matter what happened, no matter how many mistakes I made or how many times I ran away, she always forgave me. I'd do anything for her."

Crona looked at his opposite, surprised to hear those words come out of his mouth. He was able to vocalize his feelings without any trouble. Unlike Crona, who was still keeping his thoughts under lock and key, more out of necessity than anything else.

Another smile came across his face, this one more genuine and comforting. "Then I guess I was right," he remarked. "Our Makas aren't that different...because I feel the same way about mine."

Chrona smiled back. But he remembered the frustration and pain he'd heard in Crona's voice earlier, and his smile faded.

_He's the same as I was before, _Chrona thought. Crona was in love with Maka, but afraid to tell her.

Chrona hesitated, biting his tongue. But he couldn't keep quiet, not knowing how much it hurt to be in that situation. "If our Makas really aren't that different, th-then...she probably feels the same way about you. And...she'd probably be happy if you told her how you feel. I know my Maka was."

Crona blinked, his face already starting to flush.

He looked down, his smile disappearing. "That doesn't mean anything," he muttered. "Even if our Makas are alike...they won't necessarily make the same choices." He sighed. "Professor Stein explained something like this to me once. He said that all of the parallel universes spawn from choices that we make. That the one we pick results in one universe, while the opposite results in another. I mean, even within your world, there's probably an alternate one where Maka said 'no'..."

Chrona tensed.

"I'm not trying to give you any bad thoughts or anything," Crona said quickly, "but...I'm just trying to say...just because you're with your Maka, it's not guaranteed that I'll be with my Maka."

Chrona bit his lower lip. Of course Crona was right, he thought; their worlds were different. Still...

"I know it's not really my business," Chrona said quietly. "But I hid my feelings for the longest time. I used to believe that I had no chance, that there was no way she'd ever say yes to someone like me. I was afraid of losing the friendship we had. But feelings that strong...you can't hide them forever. They'll drive you crazy, if you try." He paused. "There's no way to know for sure, but she might be feeling the exact same way you are. Wanting to tell you, but afraid to."

Crona frowned, thinking. Could that be true? Did Maka feel the same way? Was she just afraid that he would reject her if she told him? But that was ridiculous. Maka knew that he lived for her. That couldn't be it.

If she did feel the same way, though, why hadn't she said anything? What was she afraid of?

"...I'd rather not think about the 'what ifs'," he answered, still looking down. "I always focus on the negatives when I do that."

Chrona sighed. "I know the feeling." He wondered if he should say more, try to encourage him. But in the end, this was a decision only Crona could make. He'd have to overcome his own fears and inhibitions, just as Chrona had.

Still, he hoped that Crona would be able to tell his Maka how he felt.

They lapsed back into silence.

Chrona paced, then paced some more.

He wondered if they should try the door again, just to see if The Host had unlocked it, but he doubted anything had changed.

Chrona's heartbeat suddenly quickened. Yet another troubling thought had occurred to him. "I wonder if The Host knew what would happen when we first met," he murmured. "If he knew we would attack each other."

"I'd rather not think about that, either," Crona admitted. "I don't want to believe that he'd plan something like that."

Chrona wondered if he should just stop talking. If he kept going he'd probably just end up scaring Crona...not to mention himself. The idea that The Host had _planned _all that was too disturbing.

But that fight between himself and Crona still troubled him deeply...not just because The Host might have intended for it to happen, but because it had happened at all.

He and Crona had gone through the same hell. They'd both endured Medusa's cruelty. They'd both dealt with the curse of madness. They'd both felt the isolation and pain of being a killer. They both loved Maka with their whole beings. But on some level, they were different, not just in their specific experiences and choices, but in the essence of who they were. In some ways, they didn't understand each other. That incident had proven it.

For a moment, he wondered if _that _was the reason The Host had brought them here, if he'd wanted them to understand each other.

Chrona opened his mouth to mention the idea, but closed it again a moment later. It was too absurd. Why would The Host do that? Chrona and Crona would probably never see each other again after this. What would they gain from talking through their differences? And if The Host just wanted to help them, why would he go to the extremes of bringing them here from their respective worlds and locking them in a room together?

No, it was too crazy.

Chrona rubbed one hand against his arm, his gaze downcast. "I just wish we knew more about The Host. Like, how much does he know about us, really? Does he know _everything?_"

Crona shivered. "It's hard to say with him. Sometimes he acts like he knows what's going to happen, but other times he doesn't...like...like when..."

He paused, trying to think of a way to tell the story without giving too much away. "...the first time he brought Maka here...he said that he didn't know what was going to happen...but that he thought it was going to be bad. And he was right...it was horrible." He gulped, remembering everything from that day. The rush of information, the horror that came with the new knowledge, what he saw afterwards, the early signs of his anger problems. Even with all the development he had made since, he still considered it one of the worst days of his life.

"B-But it was OK, in the end," Crona added. "Maka made it through, and she wasn't upset or anything. We even went out for ice cream after-"

Crona stopped mid-sentence, his expression changing to one of shock. A very, _very_ horrifying thought had entered his head.

Maka was the first. Out of all of the guest stars that had come since that day, Maka was the very first. If The Host had been manipulating things from the start, that means he had to have known how Maka would react to his reaction. He would have known that she would've used him as a coping mechanism, and that they would eventually grow closer together because of it.

Was The Host trying to push him and Maka together?

_But that doesn't make any sense!_ he frantically thought. _Why would he do something like that?_

Was it true? And if so, what else had he done? Were all of the events that took place back in his own world The Host's doing as well? All of the times he and Maka had been close with each other, the tenderness they had shown to each other? Were his battles against Dracula and the like The Host's work too? Was he placing his friends in certain roles to eventually push them to a conclusion that he wanted?

He looked down at the floor, his face getting paler and paler as he started to shake violently.

_No. No. It's not true. It can't be true. It's not true, not true, not true!_

Chrona's eyes widened as he watched. He didn't know what was going on in Crona's head, but from the looks of it, it was bad. He could see the glaze of terror sliding across Crona's eyes as he trembled, his breath coming short and sharp. He recognized the signs; Crona was on the edge of a panic attack.

And Chrona had caused it.

"Listen," he said, his tone somewhere between firm and frantic. "Whatever he's done, whatever he's planning, your choices are still yours." He stared into those wide, terrified eyes, trying to keep his own expression as calm as possible. "I...I don't know anything about The Host's reasons, but no matter how much he manipulates things to happen a certain way, you're still the one making the decisions, and whatever happens is still _real_. It still matters. He can't take that from you."

Crona looked up at Chrona, his eyes still wide with fright.

Were his choices still his own? Or had The Host taken those into account as well? Had The Host manipulated events to the point that Crona would _have_ to make the choices he had made? And if he had, why? What was the point behind all of it?

The worst part about all of this was how little he knew. He had no idea if The Host was lying when he acted like he didn't know what was going to happen, or if he was completely honest. He had no idea how much power The Host had at his fingertips either. He was bringing multiple worlds together, having them all able to access one place. And he didn't even know where the theater was, or on what plane of existence it was.

At best, The Host seemed like a powerful mad scientist.

At worst, he was a god.

"I...I don't..." Crona stuttered, looking back down at the floor. "I-I don't want to t-talk about this a-anymore..."

Chrona looked down. "OK," he said softly. He stood in silence, hugging himself. Despite his earlier words, he felt helpless and lost. He didn't know what to do. "I'm sorry," he said at last.

Crona shook his head, still looking down at his feet.

"I-It's fine," he whispered. "I try not to think about this stuff, but...I do anyway. Sometimes my mind won't listen to me. I just keep thinking about all these bad possibilities, even when I don't want to."

Chrona felt an uncomfortable twinge of recognition, as if he were hearing his own thoughts. They really _were_ alike.

He found his mind drifting back, again, to that first confrontation between the two of them. Crona's voice echoed in his mind, angrily asking, _What did you do to her?_

He should just let it go, he supposed. Crona trusted him now...or at least, Chrona was pretty sure he did. But the accusation still bothered him. Still hurt.

He clutched his arm and lowered his gaze, studying his shoes. "I know there are some 'bad' Chronas out there," he murmured, "and you thought I might be one at first, and...I didn't do a good job of explaining things, so I probably just made it worse. If Maka was here-my Maka-she would have explained it better...why we have a word, I mean. I'm not good at this kind of thing. I don't know how to make you understand."

Crona glanced back at Chrona over his shoulder. The fight between them started to resurface in his mind, and he felt a fresh surge of guilt.

He had scared Chrona out of his wits when he should've been trying to make things easier for him. Once again, he had let his temper get the better of him, after he had spent so much time trying to get a handle on it.

_Maybe I can get him to understand?_ he wondered.

"It was my own fault," he answered, turning back to face him. "It's just..." He paused, looking up at the large movie screen. "This place...it got to me. Some of the things I've seen...I'd have nightmares about them actually happening. I'd start worrying that I was turning into a 'bad' Crona myself. I'd start wondering if they were worse things out there." He looked back at Chrona, an apologetic expression on his face. "But I shouldn't have reacted like that without knowing everything first. I'm sorry."

"It's OK," Chrona said quietly. Some of the tension eased out of his shoulders, and he gave Crona a small smile. It faded, however, as he wondered just what Crona had endured in this place. What had he seen, that was bad enough to give him nightmares? And if it was that bad, why did he keep coming back? He was almost afraid to ask. "I understand why you did it, I think," Chrona continued. "Y-you were worried about Maka. I'm the same way. When she's in danger-or even if I just thinkshe's in danger-I lose control, and all I can think about is protecting her. I'd do _anything_ for Maka. Th-that's...that's why she wanted us to have a word in the first place. Because I told her that I'd do anything she wanted, anything at all...that no matter what she asked for, I wouldn't...couldn't say no." He gripped his arm, looking off to the side. "She got worried. She said that I have a right to say no, even to her...th-that she needed to know that I _could_."

Crona looked directly into Chrona's eyes.

Of course, he thought. Crona was the same way. Both of them would do anything for Maka. And even though Maka had told Crona that he could say no to her if he really wanted to, he found it incredibly difficult to do so. Apparently it was even more so for Chrona, though just how much he wasn't sure. It didn't feel right to pry regarding that, anyway.

It wasn't that Maka didn't trust him, or vice versa. She'd been trying to help him, like she always was.

Crona felt as though he should've known better. "...I really _am_ sorry, Chrona," he whispered.

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have hit you. I just...lost it."

"Me too." He lowered his head. "It was wrong of me to assume the worst. Though...I have to admit, I've never heard of anything like that before. H-having a word like that, I mean."

Chrona paused. "W-well, I think Maka came up with the idea on her own. Maybe there are other people who have things like that. I don't know. I guess most people wouldn't need it. B-but...I think it was a good idea."

He looked down and tapped his fingers together, self-conscious. He never talked about things like this…at least, not with anyone other than Maka. "I'm someone who needs to be pushed," he said at last. "For most of my life, I survived by hiding my feelings...by staying inside that circle in the sand where nothing could reach me and I never had to deal with anything. I got so used to it. Even after I left Medusa, I didn't know how to deal with people. I would try to hide. I never would have gotten as far as I have without Maka there to encourage me and push me to interact with people and try new things...b-but it's still not easy for me, and she worries about pushing me too hard and making me do something that I really don't want to do. S-so...it's just an easy way to let her know when I'm getting close to that point. She trusts me to use the word if I need to, but only if I really need to. And I trust her to always listen and respect it." A light flush rose into his cheeks. He wasn't used to making such long speeches, and he wasn't sure if he was even making sense. "That's all."

Chrona picked up the Twilight figurine again and absently wound its mane around one finger. Holding the pony was oddly comforting. "But...I still feel, at times, like it's wrong for me to need it," he murmured. "I mean...it doesn't seem fair to Maka, for her to have to do all these special things for me and look after me. Sh-she tells me that I'm fine just the way I am, but still..." He looked down at the tiny unicorn in his grip. "I want to be a stronger person. To be able to do things for myself, so I won't be a burden on her. I try every day, and other people tell me I'm getting better, but...I never _feel _any stronger. I wonder, at times, if I'll ever really change."

Crona listened quietly.

That fear of having to deal with people, with things he didn't understand, was something he knew all Cronas shared. The extent of which differed with each one, but Crona never expected to meet one who shared his anxieties to the same degree as him, and possibly to one even greater than his.

_Just who is this Chrona?_ he wondered. _What's his world like? What's his Maka like? Is there a story to him?_

He couldn't help but wonder if this was The Host's intention: to give him that spark of curiosity that he claimed to have. He almost wished that he could see Chrona's world one day, to better understand it and him.

"...it's amazing." Crona remarked. "Even though we've been through different things...deep down, we're almost identical."

Chrona looked up, surprised. "Y-yes...I guess we are," he said quietly.

Crona sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It always seemed easier to just hide in that circle and not think about the rest of the world, didn't it?" he mused. "Too many things we weren't familiar with...that we didn't know how to deal with...but that wasn't any way to live. And if it wasn't for Maka, I'd probably still be in that circle, ignoring everything outside of it." A small smile flickered across his face. "I owe her absolutely everything. I'll never be able to repay her for what she's done for me. But, even with her, it's not easy to deal with everything...and this place isn't helping..."

His smile vanished, and his hand moved to the side of his head. "I almost envy you for not knowing about this place before now. I think I was happier when I didn't know about all the other worlds. The things I've seen...they've changed me." He removed his hand from his head and held it in front of his face, looking at it. "I'm...I'm a lot more aggressive now. It's easier for me to lash out at things that bother me or my friends. I've actually attacked this place more than once. I've completely lost it on a few missions, and..."

He stopped, biting his tongue.

As Chrona listened to those words, a tiny chill ran down his spine. He looked around the huge room.

He still didn't completely understand what this place was or how they'd gotten here. Its very existence defied everything he thought he knew about reality. He'd been trying to avoid thinking about it too much. He had the clear sense that learning the answers to his questions would change him in irreversible ways, and he wasn't ready for that.

Still, there was one question he couldn't resist asking. "Th-this is a theater, so...what do they show you here, exactly?"

Crona tensed.

This was it. They had dodged that question enough as it was, but it would have to come up sooner or later. Crona had hinted at it enough times, now he had to explain.

But he couldn't tell Chrona that they essentially reviewed fanfiction. That would tell him far too much. Crona wished that he could've lived without the knowledge he had gained, he was not about to give it to his counterpart.

He couldn't tell him that he was fictional.

"...other worlds." Crona answered, looking back at Chrona. "We're shown other worlds. Sometimes they're alternate versions of our world, while other times they're different places entirely..."

He hated having to lie to him, but he knew that this was for the best.

Chrona frowned. "There's something else," he said quietly, "isn't there? Something you're afraid to tell me."

Crona flinched. He had made it pretty obvious, he guessed. "Chrona, please..." he whispered, still facing away from him. "...I don't want you to know. I wish I could forget some of the things I've seen here. A few of them were absolutely horrible. I don't want you to think about any of them being possible in any way."

Crona wasn't even sure if he was actually lying anymore. Were any of the things he'd seen possible? Were they real worlds as well as being stories?

He quickly pushed those thoughts aside.

Chrona shivered and hugged himself. "I'm starting to understand why you were so scared when we first met." He paused, then asked quietly, as if dreading the answer, "Are they _all_ that bad?"

Crona hesitated, memories flooding his mind. The mockeries of what made him who he was, the warped, twisted versions of himself, the awful things that happened to other incarnations of Crona and Maka...

Most of those experiences had been disturbing, in their own way. Seeing alternate versions of himself and his friends, even when they were relatively close to normal, was never a comfortable experience. Still, most of those memories paled in comparison to a few. "...I've only seen one or two that were really bad."

Not that Crona was about to tell him about _that_ Soul, or _that_ Maka.

He'd never really thought about it, but it seemed like there were more bad versions of the others than there were of himself. He didn't know why, or why anyone would make bad versions of _any_of them to begin with. Was it just general incompetence, or were they intentionally trying to make them look bad because they hated them? But why? What had they ever done to them?

Chrona spoke just then, stirring Crona from his thoughts: "If there are all these other worlds out there, I guess there must be both good and bad ones." He paused. "I mean...if a new world is created when someone makes a choice, there's probably millions of worlds. So many different Chronas. Out of all of them, I wonder why The Host chose you and me to meet."

"I'm not sure," Crona replied. "I don't know why he singled me out in the first place. I asked him that the one time I spoke to him, but he wouldn't tell me." He looked down at his feet, unsure of where to go from there.

He knew that he couldn't tell Chrona of how The Host had directly interfered in his world, changing the timeline. He didn't want to place that idea in Chrona's head. At the same time, he owed Chrona some explanation, given everything he'd been through today. But what could he say, really? "I don't know very much about anything," Crona admitted. "I don't even know why I keep coming here. Sometimes I _think_ I know. But sometimes I wonder."

Chrona gave him a small, timid smile. "I don't understand much about anything, either. But...even if I never find out...I'm glad I got to meet you. Even if it was a little scary and confusing at first, it makes me feel better to know that there's someone else like me out there, and that you're okay. I mean…even after everything you've—we've gone through…even after you've seen so many terrible things in this place…you're still you."

Crona stared at his opposite for a few seconds, then smiled back. "I feel exactly the same way," he answered. "I was worried about one day meeting another me...about meeting a me that wasn't like me at all, or who was someone I should be but wasn't. But I'm glad that the me that I met was...well, you."

Some part of Crona still wanted to know more about Chrona's story, about everything he'd gone through. But he could tell that, in the end, Chrona was happy. It gave him some small sense of hope, that if things could work out for this Chrona, things would work out for him too.

A few seconds after this thought entered his mind, a shrill, mechanical wail broke out over the sound system.

Chrona gave a start and looked around frantically. "Wh-wh-what's going on?"

Crona covered his ears instinctively, his eyes widening when he recognized this sound.

He had heard this the one time he had spoke to The Host. It was the strange signal that heralded his arrival.

_So he was watching us the whole time!_ Crona thought. But did this mean that The Host was going to talk to them?

Crona heard what sounded oddly like paper being ripped apart, and a flash of light momentarily blinded him. He blinked and rubbed his eyes as the glaring light started to subside.

At first glance, it seemed as though there was a rip in the wall, but the opening actually hovered a few inches away from its surface. It glowed gently with white light, as if beckoning them to step through.

Chrona stared, mesmerized, at the glowing rip in space itself; a ragged opening which seemed to stand in midair. He'd never seen anything like it.

Instinctively, he took a step toward it, reaching out as if to touch the soft light...then froze, looking uncertainly at Crona. Judging from the expression on his face, he'd never seen anything like this before, either. "Is that...the way out?" Chrona asked.

Crona tore his eyes away from the rip to look at Chrona, before glancing back at the rip.

"I...I think so..." he muttered, looking back at Chrona. "For you, anyway..." He gulped. "This has never happened before...so maybe The Host just decided it was time for you to go?"

_But why?_ Crona wondered. _Why now?_

Chrona clutched his arm. "Maybe he learned whatever he wanted to learn."

Crona wondered what that could possibly be. Or…maybe _they'd _learned whatever The Host wanted them to. But what?

Chrona stared into the white light. He couldn't see anything on the other side, no hint of where it might lead him.

What would happen if he stepped inside? It might bring him home, but then again, it might take him somewhere else entirely...or it might destroy him. Maybe now that The Host had concluded his experiment and had no more use for Chrona, he was simply eliminating him. But-though he had no reason to trust The Host and every reason to distrust him-he found it hard to believe that he'd really be that heartless.

And really, what other options did he have? He couldn't stay here forever, and the portal was the only way out.

Ragnarok peered down at him. "Well? What are we waiting for? You wanted to go home, didn't you?"

"Y-yes. But..." He trailed off, looking at Crona. "I know you've come here lots of times. But...somehow I feel like it won't be that way for me. Like once I step into that light, I'll never come back here again."

"I'm getting that feeling too, actually." Crona placed his hand on his own arm. "That would be a shame though...if we never saw each other again. I mean, you never got to meet my Maka, or see what my world is like."

"Y-yeah..." Chrona wasn't sure how he'd feel, meeting another Maka or seeing a world that was similar to his own, yet not the same. It had been strange enough meeting another version of himself; his perceptions of reality had already been bent out of shape. Though he couldn't deny that a part of him was curious.

"You didn't get to meet my other friends either," Crona continued. "The ones from other worlds."

That caught his attention. "F-from other worlds? What are they like?"

Crona smiled slightly. "Well...one of them is a superhero. She's a lot like Maka, actually. She's really smart, spends a lot of her time reading books...but she's a lot quieter than Maka. She seems a bit cold and unapproachable at first...but she's a really nice person underneath all of that. She really is one of the best friends I could ask for..."

He chuckled slightly at the thought of his other friend. "The other one is a space pirate. He's so much like Black*Star it's uncanny. He yells a lot, says whatever he's thinking, and brags all the time about being 'the greatest space pirate in the universe'. He can seem really mean at times...but he's a good person deep down. Even if he doesn't always show it."

He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm still not sure why it was us, of all people, that were chosen to come here...but I don't mind it now. I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather be here with."

Chrona gave a small smile in return. "They sound like good friends," he said quietly. He thought about his own friends, and a wave of gratitude washed over him.

Once, just the thought of interacting with other people had scared him. He knew it had been the same for Crona. To think that they'd both come this far, that they'd met and befriended so many people-in Crona's case, even people from other worlds-was nothing short of amazing.

Chrona stared into the white glow of the portal. Everyone was waiting for him back home. Still he hesitated. "I hope you're able to tell Maka someday," he said. "How you feel, I mean."

Crona blushed in surprise, not expecting that subject to come up yet again.

"W-Well...u-um, maybe..." he stuttered, before pausing.

_If this really is the last time we're going to see each other, maybe it'll be OK if I tell him..._ Crona thought.

He sighed, looking directly at Chrona. "I...I think I will. Soon. ...you're right, I can't keep this from her much longer." Crona answered, before adding, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Chrona said. He hesitated, looking back at Crona. "And...thank you, too. For everything." He raised one hand in a small, shy wave.

Then he faced the rift in front of him and took a deep breath, steeling himself. If he didn't do this now, he'd lose his nerve. He started to step forward...then cast one last glance back at Crona. "Will you be OK?" He wasn't sure what made him ask, or even exactly what he meant, but it seemed important somehow.

Crona looked at Chrona for a second, then slowly walked up behind him.

"...I will be." he answered, giving him a little smile. "Whatever comes my way now...I think I can deal with it." He paused, then looked at Chrona with mild concern. "What about you?"

Chrona nodded. "I'll be fine." He was surprised to find that he meant the words. Whatever happened, he felt, they would both be all right.

With that thought, the last of his anxiety slipped away. He faced the rift in front of him. "Goodbye, Crona."

"So long," Ragnarok called.

Chrona took a deep breath and stepped through, into the light. It engulfed him, filling his sight. He looked over his shoulder and caught one last glimpse of Crona standing in the theater before the rift closed behind him.

* * *

><p>Crona raised his hand to give a quick wave just as the rip closed. Just like that, he was gone, as though he was never there to begin with.<p>

Crona simply stood there, the strangeness of the situation slowly dawning on him. He had just met another version of himself. He had first fought him, wanting to kill him, and then made up with him, talked to him, hugged him, played with ponies with him, and grew to understand him and where he had come from. He had essentially made a friend with himself.

And the strangest part of all was that it didn't seem all that strange, when Crona really thought about it.

Ragnarok rested on Crona's head, looking at where the rip once was.

"Well...that was a trip."

Unable to think of a proper response, Crona knelt down and started picking up his pony figurines.

"...so, you gonna tell the others?" Ragnarok asked.

"I don't know. How would I say it? 'What was I doing? Well, I was just sitting in here, talking to myself'."

"Ha ha, Mr. Comedian. You know what I meant."

Crona got to his feet, carrying the figurines in his arms. He started walking towards the stairs, almost eager to get home.

"You think we can go now?" Ragnarok wondered.

"I don't see why we can't. If The Host let Chrona leave, then we should be able to go too."

"Yeah, about that...you said that he trapped us here so we can learn something. What exactly did you learn, anyway?"

Crona stopped on the middle step, pondering Ragnarok's question.

What _had_ he learned from this?

"...before this, I was always worried that I'd meet a 'bad' me," Crona started. "That I'd come face to face with something that was so much unlike me that I wouldn't be able to...well, deal with it..."

He looked down at his feet, shuffling them slightly. "But I always compare the other Cronas that I see to who I am...what I would do, or how I would react. I thought that I was the only 'good' Crona and the rest were all bad."

Ragnarok leaned forward, getting a better look at Crona's face. "So, what, you're saying you were wrong?"

Crona looked up at him. "Yeah...I mean...Chrona wasn't bad at all. He was different from me, but he wasn't bad. ...he was definitely a 'good' Chrona."

The both of them turned and looked back at where the rip had been, now gone as though it was never there to begin with.

"...do you think he was from a story?" Ragnarok asked.

Crona tensed. If Chrona _was_ from a story, it would raise a number of questions that Crona wasn't sure he wanted to think about, a number of uncomfortable possibilities for him to consider.

"...I'm not sure," he answered, looking back in front of him. "...but...if he is from one...then whoever wrote him did a good job."

With that, Crona resumed ascending the stairs.

There were still a lot of questions to ask. Some of them with very dangerous implications. And Crona knew that if he stopped to think about them, he'd wind up shaking his viewpoint of reality all over again.

But, for now, it was better to think about how he would tell Maka about what just happened.

* * *

><p>For awhile, Chrona floated, surrounded by a soft, glowing light. He didn't know where he was or how he'd gotten here. He <em>almost <em>knew, but whenever he tried to focus, the knowledge slipped away like sand through his fingers.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, suspending in that gentle light, but when it finally faded, he opened his eyes and he was in his own bed. Maka was next to him, asleep. Her soft breathing echoed through the bedroom.

Chrona stared at the ceiling, his brow furrowed in confusion. He'd just been somewhere else, talking to someone...but who?

A vision of his own face flashed through his mind. His breath caught. Had that really happened? Was something like that really possible?

Already, he could feel the memories slipping away again. They had been in some kind of building. A theater? It was all hazy; he had the feeling that in another hour or so, most of the details would be gone, like a fading dream. Maybe, after awhile, he would convince himself that it _had _been a dream. But the feeling remained, a sense that he'd gained something important; something intangible, but real nonetheless.

Maka stirred and snuggled against his shoulder.

"Maka?" he murmured.

She yawned. "Hmm?"

"Was I...gone?"

Drowsy green eyes blinked up at him. "What do you mean?"

She hadn't even realized he was missing. How was that possible? He'd been away for hours, hadn't he? Or maybe not. Maybe The Host had made it all happen within a split second. If he could send people to other realities, he could probably play with time, too. "Nothing," Chrona said. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. "It's nothing."

She studied his face, a tiny frown of concern on her own, and reached up to touch his cheek. "Is everything OK?"

He looked at her for a long moment, just drinking in the sight of her. In another world, he thought, they might never have gotten this far. They might still be apart. The idea was frightening.

But he was here with her now. This was their reality, a reality they had created through their own choices, their own courage. He had the sense that somewhere else, someone like him was busy creating his own reality with the choices he made, too. Chrona smiled and rested his forehead against Maka's. "Everything is fine," he said.

The End


End file.
